


The Aftermath of the Second Age: A Fallen Hero

by S Drake (Tabbycat54)



Category: Final Fantasy Record Keeper
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-26 10:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 39,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9890063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabbycat54/pseuds/S%20Drake
Summary: Archivist Solomon had it all.  He was a respected archivist of Professor Ifrit, a doctor and a teacher.  He had a loving wife and an adoring son who saw him as his hero.  All of that changed on the day of the Festival of Eidolons when the Ardent attacked the Ancient Archives.  This is his story.





	1. The Attack

**Author's Note:**

> This story is affiliated with Keepers of Fantasy: Third Age. Thanks for reading!

The Ancient Archives, nestled in the heart of the city of Karnak and surrounded by the arid Sagoli Desert, bustled with activity.  The Festival of Eidolons, a yearly celebration honoring the leadership of the Keepers’ Realm, brought many to the center of Ifrit’s Dominion.  Headmasters Bahamut and Leviathan, Headmistress Asura, and Professors Carbuncle, Ifrit, Ramuh, and Shiva roamed the streets as costumed versions of themselves gave candy to the children watching.

The youngest members of the Ancient Archives, the Keepers-in-Training, excitedly rushed to Bahamut.  The Headmaster chuckled as they played with his shoulder-length blond hair and traced the black scales that lined his arms.  Leviathan, a gangly snakelike man, and Asura, his three-faced queen, laughed at their caricatures dancing and playing with students of the Archives.   A young child tugged at Asura’s robes.  She recognized the youth from her Orphanage in Midgard who recently went home with a pair of Archivists to the Royal Archives.  She picked him up and wandered away from Leviathan, who joined his costumed self, in search of the boy’s parents, finding them not ten yalms from her.

Keepers and Archivists joined their Professors to take part in the events and have a day away from their schoolwork.  In addition to costumed caricatures of the Eidolons, various booths with games and prizes lined the central plaza of Karnak.  At one of the games, a Keeper won a large Kefka plush, while at another, an Archivist and Keeper-in-Training squared off against each other at the shooting gallery.  A couple of Keepers entered the Tonberry’s Tunnel of Love and exited covered in whipped cream.

Despite the merriment occurring outside, a deafening silence permeated the halls of the Archives.  In the infirmary, a tall man, standing six fulm, with long fire red hair tied in a ponytail chanted a soft healing spell on a young Keeper’s arm.   He smiled at the boy, patting the former injury and said, “There, that’s better is it not?”

The child nodded then bowed, “Thanks, Archivist Solomon.”

“Hey.  Here, it’s just Sol.  Now run along.  You don’t want to miss the festival, do you?”  The boy laughed and rushed from the infirmary.  Solomon walked to the nearby White Mage, “You’ve got this covered right, Stan?  Ifrit wanted me down in the medical tent an hour ago.”

“Yeah, we’re slow here.  Only got those two comatose kids to worry about and they’ve been asleep for a while.  Oh, your wife left a message for you to go straight home before you head to the festivities,” Stan said, adjusting his red and blue hat.

“I know.  She seemed eager to ‘talk’.  I wonder what I did wrong this time,” Solomon sighed, running his fingers through his hair, stopping at the tie.

Stan chuckled as he shook his head, watching Solomon leave the infirmary.  The Archivist’s preoccupied mind caused him to lose track his location.  Blinking twice, he turned around, realizing he wandered two streets past his own.  He breathed in deeply, hearing the busy festival, and continued home.

He approached a charming house with four squares outlined in brightly colored chalk.  A small red ball lay nearby; however, fresh chalk showed its recent use.  Brilliant flowers lie in planters adorning each window.  The inviting atmosphere of his home caused Solomon’s anxious mind to calm as he peeked in the red door.  Amelia appeared in an apron with a large metal bowl in her hands.  In her hands, she held a wooden spoon coated with cookie batter, dotted with chocolate chips.  

Using her finger to taste the dough, she smiled at her creation.  Then, she heard the creak of the door and saw the flash of her husband’s hair.  She happily rushed to the door, bowl in hand, and brushed the hair from his face.  Standing on her toes, she barely reached his cheek to give him a kiss.

“Welcome home, my love.”

Solomon lifted Amelia off her feet, kissing her before setting her on the ground, “I wish I were home longer, Amy.  I’ve got to man the first aid station at the festival and I’m running late.”

A young boy with strawberry blonde hair appeared from another room, and wrapped his arms around Solomon’s legs, “Daddy!”

“Jethro!” Solomon said, kneeling to his son and wrapping his arms around him.

“Are you going to the festival with mommy and me?”

“Daddy is going to be helping with the festival.  I’ll see you and mommy there later I promise!” Solomon said, rustling Jethro’s hair.

“Aw!  Okay, daddy.  Did you see the sword mommy got me?” Jethro asked proudly.

“A new sword,” Solomon asked, acting dumbfounded.  “Why, when did she get you that?”

A giggle erupted from the little boy as he ran to his room.  He came back holding a Mythril sword, “Mommy says that I need a proper sword since I am going to be a Keeper someday!”

Solomon feigned shock to appease his son.  In truth, they searched for a decent sword for their boy.  A Mythril sword would last him through his first few years as a Keeper.  As Jethro turned to walk back to his room, Solomon hollered, “Don’t forget to read the third chapter of Fourteenth Realm History!  You’ll need that for class next week!”

He heard an affirmative grunt from his son’s room, causing him to chuckle.  A small hand tapped his shoulder as he realized he still knelt on the soft rug adorning the living room floor.  He saw Amelia come into view, yet continued to avert his jade green-eyed gaze.  She knelt to him and, with cookie dough on her hands, poked his nose.  He scooted next to her licking the dough from her finger.

“You said we needed to talk…” Solomon said sheepishly.

“Oh don’t look at me like that.  It’s not bad,” Amelia laughed.

“Then what is it?”

She bit her lip, a grin still plain on her face, “What do you think about, you know, having another one?”

“The festival can wait while we make another right now,” he said, grinning.  He put his arm around her pulling her closer to him, kissing her gently on the forehead.

"Honey, I think..." Amelia began, happiness bubbling from her, "it's a little too late to just start making one now."  
  
Solomon laughed nervously, then breathed in deeply, "You mean, we're...?" Amelia nodded slowly.  He jumped to his feet then picked her up, kissing her while spinning her around, "I'm gonna be a dad again! I'M GONNA BE A DAD AGAIN!"  
  
Amelia laughed at him as he rushed into Jethro's room who looked up from his book. Solomon picked up his son and hugged him tightly.  The confused little boy said, "Daddy?"  
  
"You're going to be a big brother, Jethro!" a delighted Solomon said.  Jethro blinked twice and then smiled in disbelief.   His wish for a little brother or sister finally came true.  The family bustled with excitement.  Solomon no longer wanted to leave for his duties at the festival, instead hoping that Ifrit could find someone else to take his place.

Amelia smiled at him, pushing him out the door.  She knew Professor Ifrit depended on Solomon and he would never be forgiven if he shirked his duties on this day of all days.  She felt his arm pull her into him and his warmth as he knelt down to kiss her.  Her lips slightly parted as she gave into their combined passion.  Their son gave them a disgusted look as their mouths met, only to have his hair rustled by his father as he took his leave to go to the festival.

Still high on emotions, Solomon’s excitement caused him to become unaware of his surroundings and unable to see the darkness looming on the horizon.  Interest in the Festival of Eidolons affected all who guarded the city, allowing a malevolent presence its moment.  Monsters from throughout the Realm converged on Karnak, imbued with an evil force.  This power came from a monstrosity intent on consuming everything.  It waited hungrily until such a time as this presented itself.  It would have everything that lay in the Dominion of Ifrit.

A child cried as a white energy shimmered around Solomon’s hands.  He touched the girl’s badly scraped knee, and the injury sealed itself.  The pained expression on her face turned to a smile, and she hugged her healer before rushing off with her waiting friends.  Solomon rose to his feet with a smile on his lips and childlike excitement oozed from his voice as he bowed to an old friend, “Professor Ifrit!  To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Professor Ifrit, the Eidolon of Fire, stood half a head shorter than Solomon.  Black horns curled around his unkempt orange hair and olive skin.  He stared at Solomon kindly with his bright red eyes, “I’ve heard some news about you.”

Solomon’s smile widened, “Yes!  And it’s true!  I’m going to be a dad again!”

“That is wonderful news!  Jethro is excelling in his classes, just like his old man,” Ifrit said, jabbing Solomon in the ribs with his elbow while the Archivist stretched.

“Yeah, but I think that he takes after his mom.  She’s a pretty awesome Black Mage, I’m not into the elemental arts, and the boy wants to be a Spellblade,” Solomon said, rubbing his side.  
“Amelia is talented for sure.  Never thought I’d have a Magus like her as an Archivist.  She’s also learning the healing arts from you?”

Solomon chuckled softly, “That she is.  She was really only concerned with Cura and Esuna though.  Took her about three years to learn it but she finally has it.”

“Not everyone can be as gifted as you are in healing, Sol.  You were chosen as an Archivist at sixteen rather than eighteen because you are talented in those arts rather than the elements.  I’m sure you could master the elements if you tried.  Don’t sell yourself short, son.”  
  
“Are you always going to act the part of my dad, Professor?” Solomon laughed.  
  
“Of course I am.  I adopted you after all.  Might not have been there as much as I would have liked but--” Ifrit’s expression suddenly changed from a proud father to an angry bear hearing an intruder to the den.  “Something isn’t right.  Archivist Solomon, come with me.”

“Y-yes, sir.  Keeper, can you handle this?” Solomon asked a young man who tended to an injured Keeper-in-Training.  Seeing the smiles of the townsfolk and laughter of the children, nothing seemed out of place.  Still, Ifrit used his title, something that he rarely did without cause.  Solomon struggled to catch up to the Professor storming through the streets.

A loud scream echoed through the street.  The pair stopped dead in their tracks to see a Malboro glowing with an eerie purple light pulling a woman behind it.  The blood trail left in their wake indicated her demise.  Ifrit roared, turning into a large black and orange scaled beast, glowing with magma emanating from his arms, horns, and back.  His claws pierced the ground as the Eidolon unleashed a powerful Hellfire spell toward the Malboro.

Solomon summoned his staff as he chased after the monster.  The tentacled fiend rushed through the streets with its kill with the Archivist behind him.  He rounded a corner and heard a loud raucous ahead of him.  He glanced up and saw hundreds of monsters, from the tiny imps (with green hats and black mustaches) of the First Realm to the King Behemoths (gigantic purple beasts with golden horns) of the Thirteenth.  

“Professor!  We’ve got company!” Solomon yelled, running from the now charging horde.    
Ifrit pulled Solomon behind him, summoning a dozen Infernal Nails to slow the monsters and pushed his Archivist away, yelling “GO! Get the Archivists and Keepers!"

Without a second thought, Solomon rushed to the Ancient Archives.  He spotted the Professors Shiva, a beautiful blue-skinned woman with braided dark blue hair, kissed by the ice, and Ramuh, a tall elderly man with a long white beard garbed in crackling golden robes.  They watched the festivities, thankful for a moment’s respite from the daily grind of leading their own schools, the Master Archives and Royal Archives respectively.  

“Please help!” Solomon pleaded.  “I need any Archivist and Keeper you have.  Professor Ifrit is--”

“What’s going on?” Ramuh asked, a warm concern emanating from his voice.

"We are at Professor Ifrit's disposal, of course," Shiva said kindly.  
"Thank you. I must gather our people.  Monsters are gathering at the southern border of the city.   Ifrit is attempting to hold them off on his own," Solomon said hurriedly.

After Solomon and the two masters of the schools gathered a force to combat the one gathering at one of the southern gates, they headed to the border.  Ifrit laid severely wounded to the side of one of the street.  Solomon gasped, seeing the Eidolon who took him in as a son and slid to him.  

He began to cast Curaja on Ifrit, shaking his head, “Father…”

“I have thinned their numbers.  Don’t worry about me,” Ifrit groaned, rising to his feet.  He limped toward the main plaza, his arm around Solomon, who chanted another healing spell.  

Solomon turned to look behind them.  Ramuh changed into his Eidolon form (not unlike his human form except much larger), and slammed his staff into the ground, causing lighting to shoot from it, destroying multiple Ogres.  Shiva too transformed.  Her Eidolon form radiated frost from her body and her robe changed into a bikini that covered naught but her privates.  She released a quick Diamond Dust spell, coating the street with ice, causing bombs to explode without impact to the homes on either side of the street.

Ifrit turned to Solomon with a panicked look in his eyes, "Go home.  Now!"  
“Professor, Amelia will understand.  You’re family after--”  
"My wounds will mean nothing if __your__  family is murdered by these fiends.  Go!" Ifrit roared.

 _ _‘Amelia…’__  Solomon felt a pit form in his stomach as he grew consumed by worry.  In a full sprint, he rushed through the streets.  Seeing a pack of three Shambling Corpses before him, he built up energy within him and cast Holy instantly, felling the enemies without stopping.  Monsters from all different realms surrounded the town in their relentless assault, and Solomon feared for the safety of his family as his legs began to cramp.  

Fighting through the pain (and wishing that he consistently ran with his wife in the morning) he finally reached his home where Amelia fought a Warg.  A small smile raced across his face as he saw her garbed in her black and silver heavy armor.  She fought with a one-handed axe, the Rune Axe, which had a long gilded handle into a broad silver and gold axe.  Breathing in deeply and out with a sigh of relief, Solomon summoned his white and red White Mage robes and obsidian staff with a purple core amid the Gothic design.  Magical flames shot from the top.  He used the staff to focus a Diaga on the Warg after he witnessed it slice Amelia’s arm.  The two embraced as he chanted Curaga on her wounds.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” Solomon said, using the focused energy within himself to cast another holy spell at a Demon Eye through the staff while holding his wife in the other tightly.

“We’re not out of the woods yet, my love,” Amelia said, slicing through the skull of a Cockatrice that approached Solomon from behind.  More enemies emerged on both sides of the street and the two separated from their embrace.  They stood back to back with one another, defending their son who peeked through the curtains of the house to see his parents fight.

Solomon parried an Ogre’s club with his staff letting out a grunt then cast Stoneja, saying to Amelia, “Where did they all come from?  Ifrit could barely leave a dent in their forces!”  Feeling her husband pushed back against her, she threw a tomahawk toward the Ogre, slicing its head from its body.

“Whoever did this had this planned,” she growled, kicking a goblin with a green hat and crushing its head below her heel.  A Malboro attempted to take her with it as it tangled her within its tentacles.  She yelled angrily she cast Firaja on the arms.  As it released her, she turned and severed the top and bottom of the toothed mouth.

“Mommy!  Daddy!  Help!” Jethro’s voice screamed.  Solomon looked to Amelia quickly before the two burst through the door of their home.  A goblin lay dead on their living room floor, dispatched by a terrified Jethro.    
  
"Jethro, baby, are you okay?" Amelia asked, her arms wrapped around her son.  The blood from the goblin stained the floor and began to seep toward the Magus.  Solomon cast a healing spell on the three of them before embracing his family.

A single moment of peace shattered when another Ogre destroyed their window with its heavy club.  Solomon channeled his energy into another instantaneous Holy, destroying the monster entirely, before saying, “Come on!  We’ve got to get out of here.  The plaza is our safest bet.  Bahamut and Leviathan are there.”

Amelia nodded, grabbing Jethro’s hand tightly.  The three of them fought their way through the monsters trying to get into their home, but it seemed a never-ending battle.  With his parents at his side, Jethro confidently imbued his sword with fire and slashed at the weaker monsters while Solomon and Amelia took care of the more difficult ones.

Having a White Mage on point showed the dire situation of the city of Karnak, but Solomon pushed through, using his magic to part the sea of monsters.  Amelia used Black Magic to stall any incoming monsters from the rear.  Turning onto another street to get to the plaza as quickly as they could, a Behemoth of the Fourth Realm glowing black roared at them.  Amelia raced in front of her family and blocked the incoming swipe with her axe.  Another growl from behind them caused Solomon to see a Malboro of the Sixth Realm, also enveloped with the eerie black light that he had seen so many times before.  Surrounded, he cast Shellga followed by Protectga so that he could focus on attacking rather than healing.

Jethro rushed in with his mother to attack the Behemoth and she pushed him behind her gently while defending him as best she could.  He glanced back to his father who floated slightly above the ground, casting Holy on the Malboro behind them.  The tentacled monster then turned toward Jethro and took a deep breath.  Solomon pushed his son from the path of the Malboro’s signature ability, Bad Breath, and took the brunt of the spell.  His afflictions included blindness, silence, paralysis, and his form changed to that of a small green bird with a thorn crown atop his head.   The boy watched as his father, although turned around, attempted to punch at the beast who attacked them.

“Daddy!” Jethro said giggling at the sight.

Amelia quickly turned to Solomon who flailed around wildly and cried out, “Sol!” She blocked another swipe from the Behemoth as she chanted, “Heavenly wind, carry us to the fountain of power! Esuna!”  She quickly turned back to the Behemoth, and sliced at it, only to be pushed into her son and now human again husband.  A growl emerged from her as she continued to fight the large beast in their path.

Solomon cast Diaga, followed by an instant cast Holy once more against his Malboro foe.  A tentacle wrapped itself around him and threw him into a nearby house then moved toward him again.  With a groan, he jumped to his feet and cast Stoneja against the creature and rolled under another swipe while casting Aeroga, an instant cast wind spell.  With his back on the ground, he chanted “Bright light, shine down on bloody impurity!  Holy!”  The spell struck the Malboro as it disappeared.  He laid on the ground as he breathed out painfully.

Lumbering to his feet, he cast Curaja on himself, Amelia and Jethro.  “Amy, are you doing okay?”  With no response, Solomon saw Jethro charge forward.  He held out his hand to stop his son, “Let’s use magic from here Jethro.  You don’t want to get in front of mommy.”

Jethro nodded, casting fire.  Solomon muttered the Blink spell, causing multiple images to appear and the Behemoth could not find the true target.  Before it died, it cast maelstrom on all of the images of the family, causing them all to take a knee in pain.  Solomon’s chest hurt as his sight blurred.  He heard Amelia’s armor clang as she plunged her axe into the neck of the gargantuan beast.  The roar pierced the streets, causing any monsters rushing toward them to run in fear.

“Amelia…” Solomon groaned, “Jethro…”  A rush of power encircled his hands as he pushed himself to his feet.  “Holy energy, grant me thy power and make my will thine, Curaise!”

A burst of holy energy shrouded the three, giving them strength to continue.  Jethro began to sob uncontrollably into his mother’s leg.  She lifted him from the ground, holding him in one arm and grasping Solomon’s hand with hers.  The terrified family rushed toward the plaza once more, fatigued from the constant fighting.  
Doctors, Archivists, Keepers, and Eidolons fought the onslaught of the monsters.  Headmaster Bahamut transformed into his true form, a magnificent black, gold and silver dragon, and cast Megaflare toward the chokepoint they created at the Plaza.  All monsters had to converge here before reaching the Archives.  Headmaster Leviathan’s true form, a great blue and purple serpent, caused a Deluge to sweep away a small army of goblins.  

Solomon instructed Jethro to stay behind Headmistress Asura, whose form changed little other than her spinning head, as he and Amelia headed for the front lines of battle.  The boy hugged his father then hid with the other Keepers-in-Training.  Jethro whispered to several younger students that they should hide in the walls of the Archives, but his pleas went unheeded.  He watched nervously as his father and mother fought tirelessly to defend the city and Archives they loved.

Another Megaflare exploded.  Ifrit charged through the smoke, dragging a Behemoth impaled on a nail.  He thrust it into the ground and snapped his claws, causing all enemies around the Infernal Nail to be caught in the combustion.  Shiva drew her bow and performed her Glass Dance ritual while Ramuh slammed his staff into the ground, shocking and felling a King Behemoth instantly.

Amelia quickly pecked Solomon’s cheek as she rushed to the front lines.  He swelled with happiness, even in the desperate conditions the Ancient Archives faced and resolved to keep everyone alive.  He coordinated with the other healers as they took different groups and split off from another.  The groups were set up in a standard eight-man formation: two healers, two defensive fighters, four pure damage dealers.  In this case, Solomon’s group took the straggling mages while another group took the fighters.

A Behemoth King, shrouded in purple, flung Amelia aside as a rag doll, along with multiple others.  It roared, stomping on a Red Mage Keeper’s leg.  Solomon shook with rage as the holy energies welled up inside of him, and he chanted loudly, “By Cosmos’s light, with helping hands I spread good health throughout the lands.  Send energies far and near, to heal all these whom I hold dear.  HEALING GRIMOIRE!”  A golden tome appeared above his head, floating around as if on sacred wings.  On the front, an emblem of a sun glowed brightly as if dancing upon the cover.  From this book, his Grimoire, a glorious healing spell radiated, filling the entire plaza with light.  As quickly as it appeared, it seemingly blinked from existence.  In reality, it never left his side.

Shaking her head, Amelia jumped to her feet and smiled at Solomon, then ran back to her post ahead of ranged attackers, such as Mages and Bards.  She cut a Gorgonopsid of the Thirteenth Realm, a spiked wolf-like creature with giant teeth and three claws on each of its four paws, in half only to parry a swipe from an Earth Elemental of the First Realm.  She wiped the sweat accumulating on her forehead as she fought the enemies who continued their never-ending attack.

She spotted several Bombs floating above the front lines and called out, “Monsters above!  They’re heading for the healers!”

“Bombs!  Use ice!” an older Black Mage named Linnaeus called.  “We have to protect our own!”

The Bombs’ distraction served another purpose as the ground began to shake violently.  The defenders stood their ground nervously, watching for monsters to appear.  None appeared, not even a goblin or a cockatrice.  Suddenly, the cause of the quaking appeared, destroying everything on the streets of Karnak.  An Adamantoise!  It glowed with the sinister purple glow which plagued the rest of the monsters.  The beast looked to be a gigantic elephant with a steel carapace on its back.  It’s hooves each had metal spikes protruding from them.

Amelia and the rest of the front line attackers rushed its legs, only to find the hard skin of the Adamantoise made cutting into it nearly impossible.  It kicked them away quickly, as though swatting a fly.  She heard a loud cry as she saw a Monk crushed under the foot of the hulking beast.  The melee fighters and defenders backed away, fearful for their lives as the Monk’s grimoire appeared in front of a bloody hand as it burst into flames.

The death of the Monk shook the confidence of the healers, Solomon in particular.  Had he the foresight to pull the Keeper toward them, no one would have died.  He shook his head, knowing that he could not hope to keep everyone alive with as fatigued as he became during the relentless onslaught.  Bards sang songs to assist the magic users with their weary minds, but Solomon felt the holy energy leaving his hands before he could cast another spell.

Feeling a tap on his shoulder, he saw Jethro behind him, holding a small vial filled with Ether.  “Thank you, Jethro.  Now, go back to Asura.  It’s not safe here,” Solomon said, patting Jethro on the back while pushing him back to the Keepers-in-Training.

“Daddy, I want to help!” Jethro said, casting Cure on Solomon to prove he could help.

Solomon opened his mouth to object, but a loud roar from the Adamantoise interrupted him.  He shook his head, “Jethro, I will not repeat myself.  Go to Asura, now.”

“Attack the legs!” Bahamut’s voice echoed throughout the plaza before he cast Megaflare in conjunction with a Tidal Wave of Leviathan.  Lionel, a known Thief Archivist, used a rope around one of the legs, carefully weaving through the hooves stomping around him to bring the beast off his deadly feet.  As he reached the front leg for the second time, he tied the rope to his knife, threw it into the air, jumped to kick it, and, with a mixture of luck and skill, booted the blade into the tissue behind the knee of the beast.  He deftly backflipped away as the creature fell toward him.

“Come on boys and girls!  Bring him down!” Lionel called to the defenders and melee attackers, ripping the knife from the Adamantoise and holding it in the air.

Following in the Archivist’s lead, Rogues and Ninjas bolted from behind the Knights, ropes, and knives in hand, and continued to bind its legs.  The ranged and magical combatants continued to shoot and cast what they could at the gargantuan monster as the creature fell to the ground, struggling to rise to its feet once more.  The remaining fighters rushed toward it, attempting to save the remains of their once fair city.

“Death gods carving life, take their souls!  Death!”  Linneaus chanted, a dark energy traveling to the Adamantoise causing it to howl as it was defeated.  It disappeared along with the hundreds of bodies of monsters lining the streets.

Cheers erupted throughout the ranks.  The mood changed to one of relief and victory, rather than despair.  Amelia rushed to the back where Solomon cheered loudly.  Upon seeing him, she tackled him to the ground, causing those watching to laugh.

"I was so worried about you Amelia," Solomon said, laughing weakly and stroking her hair. "I had nothing to fear!  You were behind me, being your incredible White Mage self," Amelia teased, sitting up.

“Stop acting like the Professor,” Solomon laughed, kissing his wife and pressing his forehead to hers while they rose to their feet.

They turned to the Keepers-in-Training where Jethro waited for them.  He ran toward his parents.  Amelia’s hands touched his body as a dark arrow materialized, shooting him to the ground.  The world slowed around them before the child reached the ground.  Solomon dropped to his knees, cradling his lifeless son.  He opened his mouth to cry out, but no sound came out.  Amelia covered her neck with her axe and her family with her body.  She could not risk losing her husband and her child in one day.

Solomon shook Jethro and pleaded with him, “No, please, Jethro, don’t be dead!”  He chanted Raise on his son, but the boy would not wake.  Tears flowed from his eyes as he chanted Arise time and time again.  He felt the tears of Amelia and the soft chant of a Cura from her lips.  Seeing her son dead caused her to fall to the ground in grief, unable to stand.  
More arrows rained on the plaza.  Solomon wished to die in the same way as his son, unsure how to live without him.  Amelia too could only watch as Keepers-in-Training became targets of this unknown force.  Asura cast a shield over those around her, but not before the murder of some of the children within her care.  A time of victory turned into wails of sorrow.  Ifrit roared in despair as Karnak became a graveyard within seconds.

“Jethro…” Amelia sobbed, filled with anger and grief.  “What was the point?!  We defeated monsters only to have our son taken from us!”  Solomon held Jethro’s lifeless body tightly against his own, his mouth mindlessly moving in the words of the Arise chant, but nothing happened apart from tears falling from his eyes and rolling down Jethro’s face.  He felt his wife’s rage manifest in a minor earthquake around him.  She punched the ground that much he knew.

A dark shadow festered above the heartbroken plaza.  The rumble of thunder reverberated through the broken city, as jagged purple streaks shot from the cloud.  The wind whipped around all touching the dead, pushing them away from their lost loved ones.  Solomon refused to let go of his son, gripping him tightly as the tendrils of air seemed to pull his fingers from the boy.  He felt himself lifted from the ground, Jethro ripped from his arms, and he flew through the air.  The angry gale smashed his head against a pillar, causing his vision to blur.  His body collapsed to the ground in a crumpled heap.

“Solomon!  No!” Amelia screamed.  She watched as Solomon attempted to pull himself back to his feet, and, knowing that he lived, she summoned a Mythril Shard to save her son.  With every step more and more laborious to reach the boy, a loud grunt escaped her lips.  She believed she heard the voice of her husband, but she resolved to save Jethro, whatever the personal cost.

A dense mist descended upon the bodies of the fallen, absorbing them into it.  Amelia muscled her way to Jethro, lifted him from the ground, and held him close to her.  She turned to Solomon who remained at the pillar and held the Mythril Shard high above her head to use it.  

Before she could utter a word, she felt the haze descend on her.  An eerie laugh permeated the air around her.  Whispers surrounded her as she felt something stab into her.  She dropped to her knees clutching the Mythril in one hand and her son in the other.  Airy fingers ripped the crystal from her, and she felt another knife thrust into her spine.  In utter agony, she cried out but refused to let Jethro go.  The darkness, unable to whisk the child from her grasp, swallowed her with her son.  The unbearable pain disappeared.  She heard her heart’s fearful beating slow to a stop.  No blood poured from her wounds.  Her mind clouded and her thoughts ceased as she joined Jethro in death.

As soon as it took Amelia and Jethro, the dark cloud cleared from the plaza, leaving their grimoires where they lied.  Solomon choked out a cry as he tried to rise to his feet, but fell once more.   He crawled slowly to their tomes, unable to use his legs.  After what seemed an eternity, he reached all he had left of his family.  He sniffled as he stroked the Flaming Axe emblazoning the cover of Amelia’s lifeblood.  

“Son…” Professor Ifrit said, placing his hand on Solomon’s shoulder.  Solomon, unable to speak, shrugged the Eidolon’s hand from him.  Attempting to stand once more, his legs buckled and, his reflexes impaired by grief and pain, he slammed to the ground.  He curled his legs into him and groaned.  Tears flowed from his eyes as he sobbed, mourning his beloved and son.

A few weeks passed since the battle and subsequent massacre.  Forced to erect headstones and go through a funeral for his family, Solomon lost his will to survive.  Every day in the Infirmary became a tiresome chore to get through the day.  Healing brought him no joy.  He excused himself from his duties and began to research what attacked the city and killed his love.

The haggard Archivist entered his broken home with a large book and tossed it to his couch.  Approaching the twin Grimoires displayed in his living room, he hit a candle before each of them.  He spoke not a word as he collapsed on the settee, book in hand.  Before he opened it, he glanced at his house, then shook his head.  Magic may have rebuilt his home, but the damage to his soul was irreparable.

 _ _‘The…Ardent?’__  Solomon thought, reading of an entity that could control the hearts and minds of men and creatures to its own end.  He balled his hands into fists, then swiftly took his jacket and mounted Alistair, his Chocobo a large ruby red colored bird that stood two fulm taller than he.  He teleported from the Ancient Archives to the Royal Archives then rode to the Fovoham Memorial Grounds, cutting his journey from a full day’s ride to a mere two hours.  He reached his wife’s grave and touched it gingerly.

“Amelia…” he whispered, tears welling in his eyes and words barely escaping his lips.  “My heart is full of vengeance and anger.  What should I do?  How can I live without you?”  Dropping to his knees, he wept at her headstone.  Alistair curled around Solomon exhausted from the long ride.  Solomon sniffled as he rested his head on the soft feathers.  The two slept through the night, Alistair covering Solomon with his wing as the Archivist whimpered into it whilst he slept.

After he woke, he penned a letter to Ifrit.  He stroked Amelia’s grave once more, unable to speak.  He rode to the Royal Archives, then teleported to the Ancient Archives.  Leading Alistair to the stables on the rear side of the Archives, he removed the black and gold barding and gave it to the stablehand before heading to Ifrit’s office.

Ifrit stared at the note for a moment then back at Solomon, “Are you sure this is what you want?”

In a small, tired voice Solomon spoke words from his note, “Father, I resign from my post.  I am no longer fit to be an Archivist.”

“Now that is not true.  I grant your request to enter the Realms at your leisure,” Ifrit said, placing a hand on Solomon’s shoulder, “When you find your way, you’ll always have a place here, my son.”


	2. Dark Knight

Dark Knight

The following morning, Solomon ventured into the Fourth Realm Library.  He brushed the spines of the books with his finger, looking for a book detailing a time before the Red Moon.  He wished not to visit during the events important to the timeline, but rather sometime before.  The inevitability of meeting a hero made his decision an easy one, as he pulled out a weighty tome from the top of a bookcase in the rear of the collection.  Tracing the words on the front, the cover read, Before the Moon’s Resurgence.

He opened the book and felt magic surrounding him as he read the first few lines regarding Baron.  These enchanted volumes provided information gathered from researchers who lived in the realm before and after the events detailed in the specific timeline Cosmos set as important.  He made the decision to honor his wife and son by learning their magic.  Being talented in White Magic, he felt he would try to learn the darker arts as well.  He chanted the entry spell quietly and watched the portal open before him.  The tome slammed shut after he disappeared into the Realm.

Baron.  The town of White and Black Mages, Dark Knights, Dragoons, Engineers, and opportunity.   _‘My town of redemption,’_ Solomon thought, walking into the Town of Baron.  Three familiar teens, two boys, and a girl rushed by him toward the nearby fields to spar.  He envied their carefree nature as he approached one of the trainers of Black Magic.  He thought briefly back to the Archives.  Any instructor in Karnak gladly would have taught him elemental magic had he shown interest, but healing came naturally to him, so he never wished to learn anything more.

As he expected, Black Magic came easily to him, particularly fire magic.   _‘Jethro did come by it honestly,’_ Solomon thought sadly.  He cast Fira, a medium powered fire spell and tossed it in the air as a ball.  He caught the fireball multiple times, lost in thought.   _‘Ifrit told me that he adopted me because he could see in me great magical potential.  When I chose White Magic and refused to learn the elements, he seemed shocked and almost disappointed.  I feel like that’s all I am to him now.  I couldn’t even defend my own family.  What if I had learned Black Magic or Summoning before?  Could I have saved them?  What if I stayed in my house with Amelia and Jethro rather than hurrying to the plaza?  He wouldn’t have been out in the open to be shot down like that.  How many Keepers-in-Training did we lose?  Only a handful from the Ancient Archives if that.  Jethro, you should have gone inside.  You knew better.  Why didn’t you--?’_  As he thought through the question, his face lost all color on a sudden realization.  He clenched his fist, dissipating the fireball instantly.   _‘It was my fault.  I told him to wait with Asura.  I didn’t tell him to go inside the Archives.  He would still be alive if I had just…”_  Tears welled in his eyes but refused to fall.  He continued to practice in silence while the teachers watched him in wonder.  He knew where they stood, but he refused to acknowledge their presence.  

Magical trainers in Baron soon realized this student surpassed anything they had seen and sent him to Mysidia where he could train with the best.  He fueled his power with grief and rage, quickly surpassing the Mysidian tutelage.  Unlike most of the students there, Solomon spoke little outside of chants.  He felt little need for small talk, instead focusing himself on training.  Guilt racked and with nothing more to do apart from study, he quickly mastered even the mightiest of spells such as Meteor.  Even with this knowledge, he could not fill the void in his heart left by Amelia and Jethro.

A heavyset elderly man dressed in a purple robe with small spectacles resting above his bushy white beard appeared in Mysidia.  This man, revered as a Sage within Mysidia, traveled to see his old friend, the Elder, and because he heard of the young man who mastered a spell he could not.   He watched Solomon practice then sulk to a nearby lounge area.  The Archivist cast a Thundara in the shape of a ball, like he often did, and sat to think, which further intrigued the old man.

“Quite a stir you have made in the magic community, young man,” he said kindly, placing his hand on Solomon’s shoulder.  “My name is Tellah, and I understand you are a hermit from below the mountains of Mist.

“You’ve heard correctly,” Solomon’s voice came out as an aloof whisper.

“I find it hard to believe anyone lives there.  The Elder told me that you have provided no name but simply requested training.  He also told me that you entered Baron as an exceptional White Mage,” Tellah said, causing Solomon to stand and walk away from him.  “You mastered White and Black Magic at a young age, but you are not fulfilled as a Mage.  Can you say I am in the wrong, boy?”

Solomon stopped a moment, turning slowly toward Tellah, “I don’t know what I want anymore.”

“You remind me of my daughter,” the sage laughed gently.  He approached Solomon and glanced at the staff lying beside where he once sat.  “That is an interesting staff.  The magical power emanating from it is incredible, but even with a beautiful focus such as this, you are wholly unsatisfied with your life.  Have you thought about learning the sword instead?”  Solomon shook his head weakly, his mind again clouded with guilt.  Tears welled up in his eyes before Tellah spoke again, “You look distressed.  Have I spoken in error?”

“No.  My son used the sword.  I--” Solomon managed to choke out.  

“My condolences for your loss.  I knew not or I would not have spoken so boldly.  I don’t know what I would do if I lost Anna.  You’ve dedicated the past two years of your life to wholly learning Black Magic, yet have found no relief.  Why not honor your boy and learn what he knew?”

“Where should I go?” Solomon asked weakly.  

“Baron is the military capital of the world.  That is where you should go to learn the sword.”

Solomon bowed to the Sage, silently chanting the memory spell.  He wanted Tellah to forget him to maintain the timeline.  He then approached the Elder and all of the magical students training there and wiped their memories of him as well.  His thoughts turned to Baron.  He was no fighter that much he knew.  The pain and guilt from his heart manifested itself in silent tears.  A sigh escaped him as he traveled to Castle Baron.

He watched as three teenagers laughed amongst themselves.  They walked by him as he entered the castle.  Drenched in sweat, the two boys shoved each other playfully with the girl at their side, shaking her head.  One of the young men carried a sword at his side and the other a lance.  Solomon recognized them as Cecil (the sword-bearer), Kain (the lance-wielder), and Rosa, heroes of the Fourth Realm.  Cecil’s blinding white hair stood in contrast with the blonde haired Rosa and Kain.  All three had varying shades of blue eyes, with Kain’s at nearly midnight and Rosa’s a pale blue.  The boys wore different colors of training clothes, with Kain in a midnight blue and Cecil in charcoal black.

A quick listen to their conversation showed the nature of their relationship and what transpired minutes before.  Kain handily defeated Cecil in a duel by exploiting the boy’s momentary weakness.  The two, even as teenagers, proved talented fighters with the sword, which made the King swell with pride.  He wished both to become Dark Knights, but Kain declined, requesting instead to follow in his father’s footsteps as a Dragoon.

“I will defeat you,” Cecil said, a sour look on his face.

“Not today!” Kain teased, gently shoving his friend.

“I’ll be the best swordsman in all of Baron!  You watch, Kain!” Cecil swore, shoving Kain back.

“Not if you don’t watch your left side,” Kain chuckled, clenching his left hand into a fist.  “You’re not always going to fight those who are predominantly right-handed.  Like me.”

“Enough you two,” Rosa said softly.  A single word from the girl caused the two to stop their playful bickering.  “You’re both talented and I’ll always be there to heal you when you go too far, like today.”  She pulled Cecil close to her and a pale light emanated from her palm.  He glanced over her fondly as she healed his arm.  “Now that’s better isn’t it?”

“Of course,” Cecil said tenderly, briefly touching her hand.

Kain scowled jealously before jumping high into the air.  He called out, “Race ya!”

“Kain!  You already cheated!” Cecil yelled, running after him with Rosa close behind.

Kain deftly leaped from the top of each building heading to the training grounds.  Cecil knew his destination and grabbed Rosa’s hand rushing through a shortcut, once again crossing Solomon’s path.  “Sorry!” Rosa said, a giggle erupting from her.  It was enough to cause Solomon to chuckle, a foreign feeling to the weary man.  The smile disappeared from his face as his thoughts turned to his son. _‘That would have been Jethro had I not…’_

He cleared his throat before a guard stationed just beyond the portcullis and said weakly, “I wish to learn the sword.  Maybe become a Dark Knight?”

“Speak up son!” the guard said, leaning on his spear like a walking stick.

“I-I want to learn the sword and become a Dark Knight,” Solomon said a little louder.  He chose this path because his heart pulled him away from the purity he once held dear.  The furthest from White Mage he could fathom was the blackest of all classes, the Dark Knight.

The guard gestured for the captain of the guard, Baigan, to come over.  The man sized up Solomon, who hunched over timidly, and let out a laugh, “You are no swordsman.  You’re a mage.  The thought of a mage becoming a Dark Knight is absurdity.”

“Please, I only ask for a chance,” Solomon pled.

Baigan pulled the guard to the side, whispering, “This may give our newest Dark Knight a chance to prove himself.”

"By training a mage how to use a sword?"

"If he is able to do this, how pleased would the King be to have another Dark Knight in his employ?"

"You have a point, sir," the guard said, with a bow.  He walked back to his post, chuckling about the thought of a mage becoming a Dark Knight.

 _‘I can hear everything they say.  Maybe they’re right.  Maybe I’m not cut out for this, but I can’t go back to my former life where I caused the death of my son and my beloved.  My White Magic failed me that day.  Had I not said to go to Asura, Jethro would still be alive.  Amelia would not have ventured to him.  I should have told him to go into the Archives, I should have--’_ Solomon thought, not realizing Baigan stood before him.  

“In typical mage fashion, he’s lost in thought,” Baigan said, snapping Solomon from his ruminations.

“My apologies, sir,” Solomon said, in a near whisper.

“You’re a scrawny runt.  Even to make it through my training for the guards, you must have a semblance of focus.  To become a Dark Knight, your concentration must be beyond that of a normal swordsman.  I don’t see why we should even humor your request.”  Solomon opened his mouth to object, but Baigan continued, “No, I have something better planned for you.”  He turned to the training arena, where the audible sounds of sword and lance clashing echoed throughout the courtyard.  Calling out loudly, “Cecil!  Come here!”

Cecil sheathed his sword, bowed to Kain then rushed to Baigan, “Yes sir?”

“Take this _recruit_.  He’s your squire,” Baigan said, signing for something from another guard then walking away.

Before Cecil could object, Baigan left him.  He shook his head and, with his hand resting on his sword at his hip, looked at Solomon.  Appearing to struggle with something to say, he glanced back toward Kain and Rosa for support.  Kain shrugged in typical brotherly fashion while Rosa gave him a warm smile.

“What’s your name?” Cecil asked meekly.  His challenge appeared before him, but he knew not how to proceed with a squire who had no experience with a sword.  His confidence shattered before he could muster a single word.

Solomon extended his hand, “Solomon.  My name is Solomon Oka from the caves beneath the Mist Mountain.”

“Be-beneath the Mountain of Mist?” Cecil stuttered.  He cleared his throat before taking Solomon’s hand, “Nice to meet you.”  As he felt the softness of the man’s hand on his, he glanced over him once more with a question, “Have you…have you ever wielded a sword?”

“He’s a mage,” Kain snickered.  “Why would he have wielded anything but a staff?”

Solomon shook his head, “I’ve never touched a sword apart from the one that…never mind.  I can learn if you will teach me.”

“I guess this means that I have a squire.  What do I even do with him?” Cecil said to Rosa and Kain.

The two teens looked over Solomon once more before a chuckle escaped Kain’s lips, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say Baigan wanted you to fail.”

“Don’t be rude, Kain,” Rosa said, walking toward Solomon and glancing over his robes.  She turned to Cecil with a warm smile, “I believe that if anyone can train him,” she locked her arms between the two boys, “The both of you working together can.”

Cecil and Kain both felt their faces grow hot as Cecil cleared his throat, “He’s my responsibility.  Kain, I’ll have you help as soon as I get him a sword and teach him some basic swordsmanship.”

“Should’ve given him to me.  At least I’ve got skills to show for my training, unlike you who lost 3-1 today,” Kain teased.

“One of those losses was because Baigan interrupted us, so it doesn’t count,” Cecil said meekly.

“You’re both wonderful,” Rosa said, placing her hand on Cecil’s shoulder.  “I’m sure that you need to speak with your student, Cecil.”  Kain began to walk away as Rosa stole a kiss on Cecil’s cheek, “Will you be at the Inn later?”

“I can’t guarantee anything.  I’ve got a mage to turn into a swordsman,” Cecil said, grabbing her hand gently.

“Well, I’ll just go to your room later then,” she teased, heading toward Kain who waited near the bridge outside of Baron castle.

Cecil sighed, a conflicted look on his face, and walked back to Solomon.  He shook his head, asking, “Could you show me your weapon?”

The beautiful ebon Staff materialized before Solomon.  Cecil took the weapon from him quickly and held it before him.  Even as a swordsman, the intricate craftsmanship of the staff enthralled him.  He pulled himself back to the task at hand, walking to the training area.  He grabbed a bokken (a wooden practice sword) and tested the weight against Solomon’s staff.  The two were close in weight; however, Solomon’s usage of the staff as a weapon concerned Cecil.  From Rosa, he knew mages trained very little in the physical arts, so while he could lift the staff and perhaps swing it, he may not be able to use it proficiently as a weapon.

“Hold this,” Cecil said, handing the Bokken to Solomon.  He gripped it tightly with both hands, examining it closely.  Before he knew it, Cecil took the sword from his hands and said, “You can handle the weight, but to be able to truly use it, you’ll need some physical training.  We’ll start immediately.  Are you ready?”  

For the second time in years, a foreign feeling drifted past Solomon’s lips in the form of a smile.  A single nod signaled his preparedness.  He prayed this training would help his pangs of guilt even touching a sword.  He hoped he would finally have peace.

* * *

 

Months passed and Solomon became fast friends with Cecil, Rosa, and Kain.  Cecil left most of the physical training to Kain while he taught the sword.  Under their tutelage, Solomon transformed from a lanky mage to a muscular knight.  On a nightly basis, he would sneak out to the training grounds to practice his magic, and noticed the power of this Black Magic increased tenfold since beginning Kain’s training regimen.  When the thought of using his White Magic again crossed his mind, he became withdrawn, causing him to refuse to use it.  If an injury occurred, his instincts took over and he healed himself, but not without a deep toll on his mental state.

A typical sparring match between Solomon and Cecil ended with Solomon on the ground and Cecil giving another lecture about being in constant motion, parrying, not blocking with his sword, and various other things.

“I know, I know,” Solomon groaned, “Be aggressive and take the initiative.”  He lay on the ground a moment, nursing a bruised arm and ego.

“You’re still thinking like a mage, Solomon,” Cecil said, holding his Bokken to Solomon’s throat.

“Maybe that’s all I ever will be,” Solomon grumbled.

“Get up,” Cecil ordered.  Solomon did as he was told.  He leaned on his Bokken grumpily, wondering how the Keepers’ training measured up to the Realms’.  A sad look crossed his face.  He attempted to hide his expression as Cecil said, “Thinking about your son again?”  

He nodded slowly, feeling the tinge of pain from the bruises littering his body as he bowed to his opponent.  Cecil placed his hand on Solomon’s shoulder as Solomon spoke once more of Jethro, “He would have been twelve this year, sir.  He dreamed of becoming a Kee—a guard of Baron or even a Dark Knight.”

“If he’s anything like his father, he would have no trouble,” Cecil said, a warm smile appearing on his face.  “Although, he might be like me.  I’ve been told that I’m too humble and shy for the Dark Knight position.”

“You’re a great leader and teacher, sir, and a valued friend.  I think anyone who will be under your command would gladly give their life for you.”

Cecil’s face grew red as he coughed in slight embarrassment, “Solomon, when you came here over a year ago, you couldn’t swing the sword in your hands.  I think you’ve taught me as much or more than I’ve taught you.”

“I certainly feel stronger and more like myself again.  Ever since the cave in, I’ve felt lost.” Solomon placed the Bokken in a leather bag at his side.

“I lost my mother when I was born and as such, I never knew her.  The King is the only family I know, besides Kain who became a brother to me after some intense rivalry,” Cecil said, looking over Solomon once more.  “Beat me in a fight.”  He pulled his Bokken from its bag.  “I’ll make a Dark Knight of you yet.”  A grin and a quick nod answered Cecil as Solomon threw the bag from his Bokken, and the sparring match resumed.

* * *

 

More time passed.  Solomon struggled daily in his duels against Cecil, nursing more bruises and knots rather than defeating the Dark Knight.  He lost in every fight against his teacher and Kain, but the losses strengthened his resolve to fight harder.  While Cecil and Kain were otherwise indisposed, he trained against guards with whom he shared the barracks.  They reveled in the competition and, win or lose, the soldiers enjoyed themselves.

Part of Solomon knew why he strained to defeat Cecil.  The teenager grew in power by the day, becoming a talented swordsman and harnessing the dark powers of his trade.   Seeing the powers that the Dark Knight possessed caused Solomon to desire them for himself, believing that his pain would lessen should he gain more power.

His thoughts ever turned to his late family, _‘Amelia, I miss you so much.  If I had only been stronger…Amy…Jethro…you’d still be alive.  It should have me.’_  His inner monologue of guilt continued to torment him.  With every passing day, he began to lose hope of ever becoming anything more than something that would continually remind him of his failures.

One day, he watched a fight between Kain and Cecil in the Town of Baron.  The duel drew a vast crowd in the town square.  These two fought not with training weapons, but a sword and lance made of steel and fully clad in their respective ebon armors.  Kain’s helmet appeared as though a dragon stared back while Cecil’s gave the impression of a soulless warrior, with horns on its peak and a faceplate like an evil shade.  

The fight mesmerized the growing crowd.  All in Baron recognized the rivalry and friendship that these men shared, and knew their resolve to defeat each other.  With every slash, thrust, and parry, the gathering’s volume raised in excitement.  Solomon felt he watched a brilliantly choreographed dance, as though he watched music in motion.  It enthralled him, his desire to become a swordsman growing by the second.  For a time, the inner soliloquy of guilt stopped, just as time did as well, while the two masters of their craft dueled.

The finale showed Kain’s back to the ground, his lance impaled in the grass nearby, and Cecil’s blade to his throat.  Cecil sheathed his sword, helping Kain to his feet.  The two embraced as the brothers they grew to become.  The Dragoon retrieved his lance while the Dark Knight spoke with him about an opening in his defenses.

“I need a drink,” Kain muttered as he removed his helmet, his blond hair flattened against his face with sweat.

“Me too.  That battle took a lot out of--” Cecil began, his voice muffled slightly, as he was rushed by Rosa, a tackle cutting him off.  She removed the dark plate on his face to see his eyes then began to cast Cure on both fighters.  She then took Cecil’s arm as they ventured to the Inn for some much-needed relaxation.  

The crowds cleared away leaving Solomon in silent contemplation about what he witnessed.  Normally, his thoughts riddled themselves with what he could have done years ago to prevent the loss of his family.  He now believed he could defeat Cecil with a simple move.  He noticed in the fight with Kain that, although he usually covered his right side, a rare opening presented itself on the first swing following him imbuing his weapon with Darkness.

He also realized early on how Rosa reacted to Cecil.  She loved him unconditionally, but Cecil, as a Dark Knight, felt he could never love her as she deserved.  He wanted to express his feelings, but his training prevented him from showing her the same love she showed him.  It troubled Cecil greatly, as it came up in conversations with Solomon often; however, Cecil refused to show much to Kain in regards to his feelings toward Rosa, unsure if it would present animosity between them.

Solomon awaited Cecil in the training yard.  He practiced his strikes on a dummy, watching Cecil return from his visit to the Inn with his friends, dressed in a black tank top and training pants, and his hair tied behind him..  Cecil let out an exhausted breath before grabbing a Bokken and asked, “Are you ready?”

A confident nod from Solomon was all the persuasion Cecil needed to begin the duel.  Solomon felt due to Kain and Cecil’s duel earlier in the day, that if he had a chance to defeat him, this would be it.  Before Cecil came back to the training grounds, Solomon devised a plan.  He felt he drew upon the spirit of Amelia, believing he needed to show an aggressive start to cause Cecil to make a mistake.  His tactics initially worked, taking the Dark Knight by surprise, but a quick counter easily caused him to fall behind.

He continued to show more aggression, watching for an opening by acting the opposite of his normal fighting self.  He wanted to win.  He needed it.  To be a Dark Knight would solve everything.  He knew it.  He saw an opening and without a second thought, he took it, tripping Cecil with his Bokken and then held it to his neck, panting heavily.

“You’ve…gotten better,” Cecil said, lying stunned on the ground for a moment.

“I had a good teacher,” Solomon said stoically.  He reached for Cecil’s hand to help him stand.

Cecil graciously took his hand and smiled at him.  He stared off into the sunset intently for a moment before speaking.  “I promised to teach you how to be a Dark Knight.  It’s time I hold up my end.  Tomorrow, at dawn.”  He sighed deeply, continuing to gaze beyond the courtyard, “Can I ask you something as a friend?”

Sliding the Bokken into his bag and slinging it across his back, Solomon approached Cecil, “What is it?”

“It’s about Rosa,” Cecil began.  Solomon closed his eyes, hearing his guilt-ridden thoughts bombard his mind.  He hid his emotions from his friend, as he had every time Cecil brought up Rosa.  The thought of young love pained him, but he attempted to help when the topic arose.

“Go on…” Solomon said, his voice trailing off.

“I think I love Rosa, but I can’t.  Not as I am,” Cecil said.  Solomon knew this conversation well, as it happened multiple times a week.  “I can’t give her the love she deserves.”

A thought crossed Solomon’s mind, “You should try anyway.”

Cecil looked toward his feet, then smiled widely, “I should!  I’m sorry Sol.  I keep bringing up my girl problems when you’ve lost someone you love.”

“Stop.  It’s fine,” Solomon said, a tear running down his face.  “Amelia would want me to move on, and I’m trying.”  He breathed in and out deeply before continuing, “You should go for her.  You wouldn’t want her to think that you weren’t interested.”

“Again, you’re right, my friend.  Maybe after Kain leaves I can tell her how I feel.”

“He already knows I’d wager.  You’re not discreet,” Solomon chuckled.

Cecil staggered with shock, then laughed to himself. “I suppose you're right.  Go rest up. Tomorrow is going to be a long day,"

After Cecil left to go to to the Town of Baron, Solomon headed to the barracks.  He plopped on his bed, listening to the others resting there before his thoughts consumed him.  He shook his head, pulling himself momentarily from his grief.  He muttered to himself, “Amelia, I’m going to be a Dark Knight now.  I’m as far from White Mage as I can be, yet I feel no pleasure.  I miss you so much, my love.”


	3. Blood on the Sword

 

Another year passed in Baron.  Solomon’s training with Cecil became more intense as he upgraded from a heavy wooden Bokken to the one-handed Shadow Sword, the weaponry of the Dark Knights.  Having a real blade caused him to realize the happiness his son experienced when Amelia found him a Mythril Sword. The dark steel felt good in his hands.

“Solomon, I speak to you as a friend.  I will teach you the basic Dark Knight ability, as I’ve promised, but I need to know if you have any pain.  While we use our health against others, the pain I speak of is of the mind. We have many Dark Knights here in Baron, but most lose themselves in the process,” Cecil said slowly, choosing his words carefully.  His mind turned to the Dark Knights whose training caused nothing to remain but a shell of their former selves. Cecil too felt the pull of the ebon blade, but drew on his strength of heart to protect him.

“When I release the darkness from the sword, I feel pain, but it’s physical rather than mental,” Solomon responded.  He used the grief and anger he felt toward himself to propel him further. He missed his family daily, and the pain he felt from the use of the Dark Knight abilities felt like penance to his broken soul.  

Hearing the clang of metal clashing against another, Baigan approached the training square where Cecil and Solomon sparred.  A deft sweep of the leg caused Solomon to fall to the ground, a sword touching his throat. He laid back and punched the ground as a slow clap resounded through the yard.  “Cecil! Is this your squire?” Baigan asked, looking down to the man in Leather Armor covered in dirt. Solomon quickly leapt to his feet as Cecil nodded. “I am impressed with the both of you.  The King will be too.”

“Thank you, sir,” Cecil said, humbly bowing.

“It’s time to get him some real armor, don’t you think?” Baigan suggested, walking away smugly.  Solomon started at Cecil’s black armor reflecting the sunlight, often wishing for a suit of his own.  He hoped Baigan’s not to subtle suggestion would net him the ebon armor he craved. A thought briefly crossed his mind about the weight of the equipment, but his excitement quickly buried the notion before he could ask.

A bird landed on Cecil’s shoulder before he could speak to Solomon about the armor with a note.  After reading it, he scribbled an order for Solomon to hand to the Blacksmith while he rushed away, leaving Solomon alone, as often happened.  As second-in-command of the Red Wings, he often handled the captain’s duties. His men respected him, and he knew that it would only be a matter of time before his promotion.  The thought paralyzed him, as he believed himself unworthy for the position, but the King saw him differently, as did the members of the Red Wings and Cid Pollendina, his mentor and father figure apart from the king.

Solomon wandered to the Blacksmith whose worn hammer had seen better days.  A slab of steel being worked by a sweat covered apprentice lay on a nearby anvil.  The forge roared as the master metalworker thrust a piece of iron into it. The process of metals becoming the equipment that he used fascinated him.  He marveled for a moment before the Blacksmith approached him.

“Can I help you, son?” the gruff worn voice of the man broke Solomon from his gaze.

“Oh, yes sir, sorry sir,” Solomon said, handing the paper to the Blacksmith.

“A new Dark Knight.  I hope you keep your head about you,” the metalworker said, a crude smile showing broken teeth appearing on his face.  “I’ve made every piece of armor for our Dark Knights, you know. Watched young Cecil grow up too. He’s so eager to please the King, but he’s not cut out for that life.  He’s a leader, sure, but Dark Knights are a rough crowd. His timidity and humility are uncharacteristic for one of his station. And here I am rambling again. I’ll have that armor finished within a few hours.  Most of it is ready since we have so many knights here. Come back in two to make sure that we have the accessories properly fitted and your breastplate is already being worked on.”

Solomon bowed to the Blacksmith, taking his sword to the training yard once more.  He slowly practiced slashes and stabs, gradually speeding up his combinations. The dummy began to change into a dark outline standing before him.  The screams of his late wife and son echoed through his mind as he hit the figure with more and more force. Tears streamed down his face as the shadows enveloped him.  He dropped the sword and knelt quickly, grasping his head. He closed his eyes tightly and covered his ears, trying to block out the painful sounds of the deaths of his family.

“Solomon!” he heard a deep voice from behind him.  He looked up in terror and saw the face of Kain looking back at him.  “Are you alright?”

Blinking rapidly, he nodded weakly, realizing that he was safe and in Baron, “Y-yeah.  I don’t know what happened.”

“Happens to all of the Dark Knights.  That’s one reason I didn’t want to become one,” Kain huffed.  “Tell me, what happened? I’ve had to walk Cecil through it once or twice.”

“It was my family.  I heard them die over and over again in my head,” Solomon said, unable to hold back the tears as they flowed from his eyes.

“My offer stands from when you became a Dark Knight.  Come be a Dragoon with me. We’ll get you away from the dark sword and give you a lance.  It’s a bit harder to use but your mind would stay safe from the darkness lurking within.”

“I deserve this,” Solomon said, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.  “I let my family die.”

Kain shook his head, “You’ll lose yourself in those thoughts.  Come see me if you change your mind. I would value you as a Dragoon.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I cannot accept.  I do have some time if you would like to spar. I always enjoy the change of pace from Cecil and the guards.”

A grin flashed across Kain’s face as he agreed, and the two trained against each other.  He threw a shield at Solomon and said, “You’ll need to learn this too. You don’t want to get hit unnecessarily trying to parry my lance.  I’m sure Cecil was getting to this, but I’m in a good mood today.”

The weight of the shield put a strain on Solomon’s arm as he attempted to block Kain’s lance. He flailed it around, unable to control it.  Kain covered his face with his palm, then explained to Solomon the various uses of the shield, demonstrating how to use it properly. Solomon nodded as Kain refitted the shield on him.  He failed miserably in its use once more, but Kain seemed pleased with his progress, stating he would inform Cecil of their session.

Solomon rushed to the Blacksmith, leaving Kain in the yard, hoping he arrived on time for his fitting.  The gruff metalworker tossed Solomon a white muslin shirt and tight black pants. He then forced a set of light chain mail on the Archivist, who felt a vast weight difference between his leather armor and this chain mail.  He watched as an apprentice wrenched a heavy breastplate from a nearby mannequin. His eyes grew wide as they forced him into the suit, believing that the mass would crush him. His surprise clearly shone on his face once he wore the armor of the Dark Knight.

“It’s not as heavy as I thought it would be,” Solomon commented as he felt gloves shoved onto his hands.  He lifted his feet with the heavy boots on and wondered if Amelia ever worried about falling because of the weight.  The thought caused him to chuckle as he donned the horned Dark Knight helmet. He returned to the training grounds where Cecil finished yet another task meant for the Captain of the Red Wings.

Becoming accustomed to the weight of the armor, sword and shield proved easier than Solomon expected.  His guilt fueled his resolve to become stronger so he never felt the pain of loss again. His training sessions became therapy for his aching heart and mind.  No longer did he dread the bruises, aches and pains of daily sparring. Instead, he lived for the thrill of battle. Cecil dragged him into the desert outside of Baron to fight Cockatrices, small white and blue birds that could turn a man to stone, and Floating Eyes, a winged demon with a single giant eye in the center of its body.  He used the Blood Sword technique to drain health from his enemies, taking it for himself. He then used the vitality he gained, using it against the next enemy in a dark shockwave from his blade.

One day, in the Barracks, Solomon raised a glass of Baronian Ale with the Red Wings, guards, Cecil, Kain, Rosa, Cid (a stout balding man with wide goggles), and Baigan and said, “To Cecil!  Captain of the Red Wings!”

“To Cecil!” they cheered.  Rosa pecked Cecil on the cheek, taking great pleasure watching him red with embarrassment.

“To my best friend, Kain!  Commander of the Dragoons!” Cecil uncharacteristically shouted.  
“To Kain!” another cheer erupted.

The merriment made Solomon wish he could stay in the Fourth Realm forever.  In truth, he called everyone together for ease of access. He escaped the celebration unseen and chanted Sleepga, knowing that the lowered inhibitions from the alcohol would allow the spell to take effect with ease.  Hearing the last body slump to the ground, he began to chant but stopped himself. He wished he could stay even a day longer, but he knew he needed to leave. He became too attached to the heroes here, a mistake he could not afford to repeat.

“Forget me, friends.  I am not even a shadow in your mind nor a memory to cling to.  Forget me,” he chanted, feeling a tear roll down his face. Throughout his life, he had never made friends easily.  Even Amelia only went with him the first time to the Third Realm because Ifrit forced her, not because of friendship.  Everyone knew Ifrit adopted him. As such, no one wanted him around. He excelled at White Magic, visual arts, and piano because there was nothing else to do.  He had to inject himself into group projects, go to events alone, and dealt with bullying on a constant basis. He became a loner because no one wanted him around.

In the Fourth Realm, he felt he found his place.  Cecil and Kain became as brothers to him. Even after Amelia became his friend and introduced him to hers, a sense of belonging escaped him.  He had to propose to her for her father to remotely accept him. Her best friend never accepted him. After proving himself to them time and time again, her friends only tolerated him because he dated her.  With Cecil and Kain, he felt tolerance initially because of the challenge of teaching a mage the sword, but as time passed, the two’s friendship kept his guilt and sadness at bay. He would have gone mad without them.

He stared at a painting in the Inn for what seemed an eternity.  Like the other two Archives, to exit a Realm, he must open a portal through canvas.  He could enter through a tome, but leaving took finding a portrait. Shaking his head, he snapped his fingers, causing a swirling black vortex to appear, and left Baron.

* * *

 The moment he returned to Ifrit’s Dominion, the heat from the Sagoli Desert permeated his armor.  In mere seconds, his body became drenched in sweat. He dematerialized his Dark Knight armor, replacing it with a light, short-sleeved tunic, black in color with large red flames emblazoned on the back and a flame charm laced into the sleeve, and black shorts with red trim.  He tied the bottom of the shirt, leaving his chest exposed, as he walked out of the Ancient Archives and into the city.

The smells, the sounds, and the heat of Karnak brought Solomon a momentary state of euphoria, followed by despair.  As he passed the pillars adorning the entrance of the Archives, he felt tears well into his eyes as he continued into the plaza.  Everything in the city appeared as it did the day of the attack. With the reconstruction efforts complete, people lined the streets leading to the marketplace, eager to buy, sell, and trade once more.  

The laughter of children wafted through the air, piercing Solomon’s heart.  He wandered to his house. Glancing through the window, he noticed the new family in residence.  A pained smile appeared on his face, knowing he requested Ifrit to sell his home since he no longer needed it.  Bending down to the sidewalk, he traced invisible lines that once lay there in bright chalk. A deep sigh passed his lips as he began his return to the Archives.

Multiple people attempted to speak with him as he roamed the halls of the Archives, but he refused, not caring what they needed from him.  Some wanted to know how he fared after Amelia’s death, while others wished to know where he had been for nearly four years. A muttering from a pair of female Keepers caused him to slow a moment out of curiosity, “Is he a new Keeper?”

“I think he’s an Archivist, Mira.  You can tell with the charm he has.  They all have those,” a girl with pink hair tied in high pigtails said to another with bobbed dark blue hair and wide rimmed glasses.  “I will say though, if that’s what the Archivists look like, I’m going to study more!”

“For sure, Sherlyn!  Shh, he’s looking at us!” Mira giggled with Sherlyn as they ogled Solomon. He glanced behind and above him before meeting the girl’s gaze momentarily.  Seeing her blush, he chuckled to himself as he continued on to the Archivist Hall, leaving them behind. The only bright spot of a dreary day, left in a hallway with a book in her lap.  He shook his head, knowing he no longer wished to live.

An obsidian atrium with red magical torches lining the walls sprawled before him.  Unlike the rest of the Ancient Archives, which Ifrit fashioned to look like a grand library, Archivist Hall and the Keeper’s Wing were made from rock formed when lava quickly cooled with red torches for lighting.  The glass ceiling of the common areas allowed sunlight to pour in during the day, causing the stone to glitter and shine brilliantly, showing white crystals within. The daylight brought charm to the hall, while the moonlight conveyed a sense of mystery and intrigue.

In the center of Archivist Hall sat a magical statue of a Red Dragon.  At various times of the day and night, it shifted positions as though guarding the six eggs that laid at its feet.  Solomon once heard scratching within one of the eggs, but he dismissed it as his imagination. The statue would periodically breathe fire toward the eggs or into the air, which added to the atmosphere of the area.

Faint glowing doors lined the perimeter of the building.  Above them, large flame banners adorned a seemingly hidden second floor.  Approaching a door near the center of the rear of Archivist Hall, Solomon quietly muttered, “Kifeti.”  The door immediately opened before him, revealing a large mahogany desk with a thick layer of dust coating the neatly arranged papers on his desk.  On the desk sat an out of place pearl picture frame with gold hearts. Within it showed a painted portrait of Amelia in her elegant wedding dress lifting Solomon in a tuxedo, both with wide goofy grins on their faces.

He stared at the image, remembering when he painted it.  He felt the tears welling in his eyes as he touched Amelia’s face gently.  Another picture stared at him, surrounded by a frame made from wooden sticks.  He laughed at the painting. A toddler Jethro had his hands spread open, covered in mud, and seated in his mother’s lap, whose muddy face smiled widely at the painter.  In his home, he painted dozens more, but these two always held his heart.

Finally, he left the office and went to his room.  Flopping on a red-brown suede couch, he looked around the room he once lived in with Amelia for the seven months before Jethro was born.  Ifrit arranged the paintings and various other articles within the room to look like his house. Portraits depicting Jethro growing up lined the room.  A quick glimpse into the hallway showed smiling face of Amelia staring back at him. Anger welled inside of him as he rushed to one of the pictures, intending to tear it down.  Instead, he collapsed to the floor, sobbing, searching for relief.

He glanced around his lodging, tears clinging to his face.  A small kitchen and dining room lay on the far side of the door, easily seen over a fire orange island countertop.  Opposite the entrance to the hallway stood a fireplace with the two Grimoires of Amelia and Jethro placed atop it. Two worn candles, the wick burned away, rested in front of the last remains of Solomon’s family.  He quietly chanted Fira, lighting the hearth.

A charcoal chair sat at the fireside.  The memories of Jethro breaking the arms of the heavily padded recliner burned into his mind.  The armchair, broken in multiple places, remained the most comfortable and favorite in the house.  Tears freely flowed from his eyes as his Grimoire materialized in his hand. His gilded tome became tarnished with an ebon grime.  The former shining sun in the middle of the book changed into a broken sword, glowing with a black shadow.

He held the Grimoire at eye level and flung it into the fireplace.  Seeing the book sit atop the flames with no reaction, he let out a guttural roar and snatched it from the fire, singing his skin in the process.  He attempted to pull a page from the tome, but it held fast in place. He threw it across the room in anger knowing the futility of his attempt.

“Why did I even think that would work?” he cried out, punching the ground.  “I have to live with my mistake of not telling Jethro to go inside for the rest of my life.  I have to live without my Amelia. Why can’t they just let me end it?!”

A loud knock caused Solomon to shake his head and push himself from the ground.  “Coming!” he called weakly, wiping the tears from his eyes. He pulled his hair into a messy ponytail and breathed out a forceful sigh before walking downstairs.  Outside stood Ifrit, a concerned look painted on his face. He still wore his black robes with flames embroidered on the sleeves and emblazoned on the back. Solomon gave him a pained smile as he allowed the Professor entry.

“Solomon, what’s wrong?  Has someone done something to you?” Ifrit asked.  Solomon shook his head slowly, feeling Ifrit’s hand on his shoulder.  “I’m glad you’re home, son. It’s been too long; however, your expression has not changed.  Are you okay?” Solomon turned his head away, tears falling from his eyes. “What happened?”

Solomon wiped his eyes again, “They’re gone.”  He found his arms wrapped around Ifrit who patted him on the back awkwardly.

“You’re not a child anymore, Solomon.  Let them go,” Ifrit said sternly. Solomon backed away from him and walked to his couch, plopping onto it without another word.  Ifrit sighed while following him and said, “Have you found what you’re looking for?”

“Obviously not,” Solomon said curtly.

Ifrit sat next to him in silence then noted the Grimoire laying haphazardly in the kitchen.  Above the tome, a dent in the wall appeared clearly. Ifrit rose to his feet to pick up Solomon’s lifeblood.  He quickly repaired the small hole and realized the book was warm to the touch. Returning his attention to Solomon, he said, “Would you care to explain why there was a hole in my wall and your Grimoire feels like it has been in a fire?”

“Because I stupidly thought that I could kill myself and end this miserable life I have by throwing my Grimoire in the fireplace then I threw it against the wall.”

Ifrit’s eyes flared as he stormed to Solomon.  He lifted him off the couch by his shirt, his feet dangling inches from the floor, and scowled, “How selfish can you be?  Did you not think about how that would make others feel?”

“You mean you!  You only care about yourself!  You adopted me because I would make YOU look good!  If I killed myself, no one would even care!” Solomon yelled, attempting to pull Ifrit’s hand from him.

“I care!” Ifrit roared without hesitation.  Solomon opened his mouth, but no sound came out.  Throughout Solomon’s life, Ifrit seemed to care more about what Solomon could do for him.  Seeing the kindness and concern on his face caused Solomon to reconsider what he initially wanted to do.  Ifrit lowered him to the ground saying after a sigh, “Solomon, I know that this has been difficult for you.  Jethro always called me Grandpa Freet which I admittedly thought was rather cute. I won’t see Amelia’s smiling face, and she was always smiling Solomon.  From the moment you and she began dating, she smiled.

“I don’t want to diminish your experience.  I know you lost everything that day. I lost my city, Ramuh and Shiva lost Keepers and Archivists, many people lost their children or other loved ones.  You lost your wife and son. The best thing that you can do to honor their memories is to move on with your life. Have you been using your White Magic to soothe your anxiety?”

“My heart is too heavy…father,” Solomon said, feeling a mixture of anger and sadness.  He glanced at Ifrit, “My anger and pain fuel my strength.”

“What did you do?”

“I’m a Dark Knight now.  I only know sadness. If I am to be able to serve you as an Archivist, I must do this my way.”

Ifrit placed his hand on Solomon’s shoulder, “I cannot approve of this, but maybe you will prove be wrong, as you so often have.  Where will you go next?”

“In the morning I plan to leave for the Eleventh Realm.  If you’ll allow it.”

“Of course,” Ifrit said, sitting next to Solomon once more.  “I would never deny you what you need. I do have a request though.”

“Anything father.”

“Find something, or someone, that brings the flame that Amelia did to your heart.”

“I don’t understand.  Are you suggesting that when I’m in the realms I…” Solomon began, stumbling over his words in visible confusion.

"Solomon, you are not bound by the Second Law as of this time.”

"You don't have to do that!  I should not be held any less accountable for my actions in the realms, especially when it comes to romance than anyo--”

Ifrit rose to his feet, placing his hand firmly on Solomon's shoulder once more, "For your wellbeing, I do; however, you must leave that romance in the realm."

Solomon shook his head, "You don't have to worry about that from me Professor. I don't think that anyone would ever be able to bring that light to my heart."

“Solomon, you need to find the light once more. The Ardent consumes those lost in the dark.”  

Walking down the stairs behind Ifrit, Solomon bowed courteously and said, "Have a good night, Professor.”

* * *

 

_Ifrit._

_The last thing I remember is going to his office.  He said he needed to see me, but why? What did he need to discuss?  I can’t remember anything._

_He touched my forehead, and I collapsed to the ground.  My friends Clari, Peliel, Kazuo, and Katerra were being forced from my mind.  I can’t forget them. I won’t! What did he do to me?!_

_But wait.  Who are they again?  Oh, that’s right, Clari is that girl who became an Archivist at fifteen.  Katerra, I needed to heal someone by that name. The other names. Who were they?  Were they only names in the Archives?_

_None of that matters.  We’re at war with the Ardent.  We’re fighting a losing battle.  I lost them to it. Amelia, my love.  My one and only. Jethro, my star in the darkness.  I will have my vengeance!_

**“Good.  No one will take my warrior from me.  Give into your anger! You’re mine!”**  

* * *

 

Pain seared through Solomon’s head as he groggily sat up in bed, his black silken sheets draped across his legs.  He glanced to his left, noticing recent use. He assumed he tossed and turned considering his tumultuous thoughts the night before.  A quick glance to either side showed a book on Bastok on his nightstand. The book’s imagery reminded him of the city of Karnak, and as such stood at the forefront of his mind.

Grabbing a nearby shirt to throw on, he noticed the top looked worn, yet, he had never seen it before.  Shrugging, he put on the brown tunic and wrapped it around himself, tying it with a belt. He took a fair amount of gil from his personal stash, unsure how much he might need in a merchant city such as Bastok.

A glance behind him into the hallway proved worrisome to Solomon.  The paintings that caused his meltdown were gone. Where other more random events, such as the tunic and the pillow, explained themselves as chance, removal of the artwork showed something happened the previous night, but his recollection proved unreliable as to what.

He cautiously peered into his living room.  Similar to the paintings, the Grimoires atop the mantle of the fireplace disappeared without a trace.  He put his back to the wall and stared at a closed door. He carefully opened it, then chuckled to himself, realizing the ridiculousness of the situation.  The extra room likely would have nothing inside save a thick layer of dust. “I’m being so dumb about this,” he muttered to himself opening the door. “Wait, what the hell?”

Inside, all of the paintings of Amelia and Jethro that once hung in the hallway littered the walls in chronological order.  A small armoire sat on one side of the room with a desk on the other. Along the wall opposite the door, a full-sized bed with a slightly tousled blanket lay atop it.  Not a speck of dust touched the room, indicating its upkeep.

An unclear memory rushed to his head involving an Archivist with bronze hair.  Amelia and Jethro accompanied him to the Master Archives for the Archivist test.  The girl barely passed, but in doing so, her enemy impaled her on their sword before she defeated him.  He allowed her to stay in this room while he slept in the other room in order to take care of her injuries.  She finally was allowed to go home about a month before the Festival of Eidolons.

With one mystery solved, Solomon quickly gathered the necessary items and traveled to the Eleventh Realm library, where he chanted the spell to enter the book, Bastok: A Desert Gem.

* * *

 

Solomon entered into the technologically advanced city of Bastok from the gates of North Gustaberg.  Since Bastok nestled itself deep into the Gustaberg region, the familiar heat of the desert caused a sense of home to wash over him.  Even with the heat, the refreshing waters in Port Bastok brought many to this portion of town. Humes bustled about around him, rushing from one side of town to another, muttering about the Galka in the southern reaches of town.  (The Galka were a large male-only race who reincarnated as a means of reproduction.) Without any clear indication as to a Dark Knight trainer from his research, he ventured into the city, wandering aimlessly while taking in the atmosphere.

A group of six adventurers, all of varying classes and races, passed by him.  He noticed they gleaned information easily from the villagers, where he could barely find out the location of a nearby Inn.  He shrugged and attempted to materialize his armor; however, nothing happened. He frowned and verbally chanted for the armor to appear, but, instead of armor appearing on his person, more stares pierced through him, including from a couple of adventurers ahead of him.  He heard an unnerving laughter surrounding him as he awkwardly smiled and waved to those gawking at him.

A tiny adventurer, barely reaching to Solomon’s knee, approached him.  Dressed in a red cap with a white feather and a red tunic with white trim, the girl looked no older than a child with a dark nose.  Solomon knew of this race, the Tarutaru. They were a small race, with the tallest standing no taller than a yalm with large pointed ears, a dark brown nose, and large eyes.  

The little one tapped him on the leg and said, “Changing in public, it cannotaru be.  Leave itaru to us to help you agree. The residential districtaru will be the place for you to change your class withoutaru a trace.”

Solomon let out a nervous chuckle, “O-oh, of course.  I’m new to Bastok, how do I get there?”

A mischievous grin appeared on her face as she motioned to the Mithra, a woman with reddish brown pigtails and cat ears atop her head, who accompanied her.  They giggled amongst themselves a moment as the Tarutaru pointed him toward the Bastok mines in the southern part of town then explained that before the South Gate, he would turn west to find the residential district.  They then rushed toward the North Gate into Gustaberg.

Following their advice, he found his way to the gates of the residential district where a Moogle, a small white cat with a pink nose, pink wings, and a pompom on his head, escorted him to a small room.  The unfurnished room showed cracks in the ceiling and cobwebs lining the corner.

The Moogle spoke to him as he showed him inside, “You can live here for free, kupo.  Feel free to spruce it up and make it your own!”

Solomon willed his Dark Knight armor to materialize, pleased as it appeared on his body.  He bowed to the Moogle and asked, “Might you know where I need to go to get training as a Dark Knight?”

“Kupo?  No one rightly knows for sure, kupo.  I would advise asking some of the Galka in the Mines.”

With that explanation, Solomon left the kindly Moogle, heading toward the Bastok Mines.  The mines’ lack of use showed in the number of miners living in the area. Tunnels, located in the western part of town, were mere entryways to more mines.  Deciding against venturing into those tunnels, Solomon wandered around, listening to salesmen spin tales of their amazing wares. He passed by them, declining to take a look while he took mental notes of the important locations in the mining district.

“Zeid?!” a young boy’s voice rang out as Solomon passed by a home on Ore Street behind the shops of the Bastok Mines.  Solomon stopped a moment, turning his head to look toward the sound. “Is-is that you?!”

Solomon lifted his faceplate, looking at the boy who stood at his chin level.  The boy had white fur with green streaks on his cheeks. Atop his head, thick brown hair was pushed down by a green and yellow tribal hood that extended as a poncho around his collar and middle of an off-white tunic.  He looked into Solomon’s eyes with a sad yet hopeful look as Solomon said, “No, you must have me confused with someone else. Who is this Zeid?”

“I thought, because you’re a Dark Knight, that you might know him…” his voice trailed off.

Placing his hand on the Galka’s shoulder as the boy sniffled, Solomon said, “I’m looking for someone who knows about the powers of a Dark Knight to train me.  Do you know where this ‘Zeid’ is?”

“One of the last things that Elder Werei said was that there was a powerful Dark Knight in the Palborough Mines.  Volker thought it might be Zeid. I wanted to find Elder Werei and Dark Knights are on the decline! When I saw you…”

“Hey, I’ll go look for him in Mines,” Solomon said, bowing to the young man as he turned to walk away.

He felt a large hand grab his arm softly to prevent him from leaving, “Traveler.  Werei told me something once. ‘Only the few who can tame the dark flames within their soul that feeds on their sorrow and hatred are chosen.’”  Solomon turned as the boy looked into his eyes, speaking once more, “You do not have a heart of darkness, Hume. You have no reason to do this. Why do you take this path?”

With a deep exhale, he eyed the Galka with sadness, “There is not a mote of light left in my heart.  I have only pain and a thirst for revenge.”

“But…you speak with kindness from your heart, Hume,” the boy said, thrusting his hand into Solomon’s.  “My name is Gumbah! What’s yours?”

“Solomon.  Solomon Oka,” he said, a chuckle escaping from his lips as Gumbah shook his hand wildly.  “Thank you for your help, Gumbah. I’m new to these lands. Where might the Palborough Mines be?”

“Um, if you go through the port in the northern part of town, there will be a gate to leave Bastok.  You’ll go north to the mines at the tip of North Gustaberg.”

“Thank you again, Gumbah.”

“You're not like other Humes, Solomon.  Many look down on us Galka. You’re kind.”

Galka around Solomon hid in their shops, deep seated anger plain in the glares they gave him.  Although in the desert, a chilled feeling came over him as he said to Gumbah, “I wish to give you a better opinion of Humes.  I’m not leaving this region soon. Could you tell me of this city?”

Excitement washed over Gumbah’s face as he nodded.  He ushered the Archivist inside, then pulled out small cups for tea.  A scholarly fascination overcame Solomon as Gumbah spoke quickly of President Karst, the military of Bastok, and, most importantly to Gumbah, the history and culture of the Galka.  The more Gumbah spoke of the other areas in Vana’diel, the more intrigued he became.

It occurred to him why many of his realm enjoyed visiting the Eleventh and Fourteenth Realms.  In these realms, unlike the other Realms of Fantasy, one could meet with someone of another age, be it in the past or future.  Due to the prevalence of adventurers and “Warriors of Light”, Keepers could easily become an unnamed hero here. Solomon knew of Keepers who fell in love with someone in this realm, learned of their lineage as a denizen of the Keeper’s Realm, and then realized they fell in love with someone of days of old.  With few exceptions, they continued their relationship, leaving one another when the time came to leave the realm. (He recalled a Doctor he studied with who fell in love with his great-great aunt who died fifty years prior. The relationship became awkward moments later, and Doctor Fredrick beseeched all in his class to never date in the Eleventh or Fourteenth Realm because “You could be dating your aunt!”)

Within hours of learning of its existence, and a quick stop at Rex for a map in Port Bastok, Solomon approached the entrance of the Palborough Mines.  He caught the glimpse of something scurrying within, quickly hiding with his back against the wall. Gumbah warned him of a race of bipedal turtles, the Quadav, sending forces to the area to reclaim the mines from the forces of Bastok.  He carefully walked into the mines before he heard a sinister voice in his mind.

 **_“Kill…them…all_ **.”

Quickly drawing his sword, Solomon frantically scanned his surroundings, ruining any element of surprise he once gained.  A snarling Quadav jumped in front of him. Two others appeared with him.

“Amber!  Get him with fire!” the gravelly voice of the first Quadav growled.  He drew a two handed sword and pointed it at Solomon, who pulled his Shadow shield from his back.

“Shut it, Brass!  Kill him!” a Quadav with a tall staff said, pushing the Quadav in front toward Solomon.

“Amethyst, keep us up!” the Quadav, known as Amber, barked.  He held a small black rod with a ruby at its tip.

Watching the three Quadav encroach on him paralyzed Solomon.  He shook violently with fear as Amber cast Fire, hitting Solomon directly in the chest.  He looked down as he felt the heat through his armor. He heard an intimidating laugh permeate the air.  It grew from a light chuckle to furious cackle. He felt his body lunge forward, running the Quadav through the stomach, feeling the life leave the magic user’s body.  Brass charged him, only to be pushed back by a dark wave pulsing through the air. Brass dropped to a knee as a set of twin dark blades pierced through him, leaving a cadaver in their wake.

**_“Kill…kill.  The white mage comes!  Kill him.”_ **

Amethyst approached his companions, attempting to cast Cure on Amber.  Without a second thought, Solomon walked to him and severed the head from his body.  The corpses shuddered a moment before lying still. A sinister smile appeared on his face as he hungrily watched the blood drip down the sword.

**_“Give into it.  Your hunger for blood.  Your unquenchable thirst…”_ **

He traced his finger in the blood of the Quadav staining his blade.  The sanguine liquid excited part of him. The pain of loss momentarily sated, a cruel laugh escaped him.  He gazed at the three bodies. Amber’s intestines splayed across the ground, the head of Amethyst lying in a pool of gore below it, and dark energy caused Brass’s body to spasm once more.

Suddenly, a pit in his stomach caused him to drop to the floor.  He raised his faceplate just as a rush of vomit left his mouth. Disgusted with his actions, he gagged on the smell of blood.  With his mind torn between glee and revulsion, he rose to his feet and walked back to the entrance of the cave, filled with indescribable emotion.  He killed three beastmen in cold blood, and liked the feeling it gave him. Terror at what he was becoming motivated him to return to Bastok for the night.

  



	4. Bringer of Death

 

As Solomon reached the Bat's Lair Inn in the Bastok Mines, he sat at the bar inside. He ordered a warm ulbucoconut milk toddy, extra brandy, to make sure that he could sleep after what he had just done. _'They were going to kill me. It was me or them. Nothing to be ashamed about. They were going to kill me,'_ he thought in a panicked state of mind. He then ordered three shots of whiskey after that. Although not usually a drinker, Solomon was in a state of so much panic that he needed something to calm him down.

After ordering a large bottle of whiskey and heading to his room in the Inn, he realized that the more he drank, the less pain he felt in regards to Amelia and Jethro. He had only really heard about the effects of alcohol on the mind and its mind numbing effects, but he was feeling better than he was. He took off his armor and laid in bed, the bottle of whiskey by his side. Although feeling numb, thoughts rushed through his head and tears flowed from his eyes. He saw the three Quadav that he had cut down like they were nothing. He saw the life leave one of their eyes and it haunted him.

He sat up in bed, feeling the effects of the alcohol. He wanted to have someone with him right then, but he didn't know where to look. Taking another swig of whiskey, he quickly forgot anything about finding someone and passed out on the bed.

* * *

  _"Solomon…"_

_Solomon rubbed his eyes. He was back in Ifrit's Domain, but initially he didn't know where. He looked around and heard giggling from the other room. He turned to his side and saw the familiar sandy blonde hair of his wife and her smiling face. He knew that this was a dream, but he didn't care. He pulled her in close to him and kissed her cheek._

_"Amelia…" he said, holding her tightly._

_"Sol, just what are you doing?" asked Amelia, peering into his green eyes._

_"What do you mean, Amy?" asked Solomon. He looked down at himself and saw his body clad in his Dark Knight armor and her in her Paladin armor. They were now seated on the edge of the bed holding hands and he laid his head on her shoulder._

_"You're clad in the dark armor. The path you're taking will consume your heart and your goodness," said Amelia sadly._

_"The Ardent did that when he took both of you away from me," scowled Solomon._

_Jethro appeared in his lap and hugged him, "Daddy, don't go dark. You're like one of the Warriors of Light from the stories!"_

_He smiled at his son's innocence, "I'm too far gone Jethro…"_

_"Nonsense," said Amelia, pulling Solomon to his feet. "No one is too far gone to be saved. We just gotta find that mote of light left in there." Amelia reached her hand into Solomon's chest and pulled out a red crystalized heart. Solomon looked at it with her as she turned it to and fro, "Would you look at that? It's red and not black! It's a bright and beautiful heart."_

_Jethro clapped at the crystal heart and said, "See Daddy! You don't have a black heart!"_

_Solomon took the heart from Amelia and pointed, "But look, there is a black spot."_

_"Everyone has one Solomon. Don't lose hope!" said Amelia smiling._

**_"My children! Come back to me!"_ **

_Solomon drew his weapon as put his "heart" back inside his chest. Amelia and Jethro ran to the door in fear, "It's the Ardent!" The dark cloud pushed Solomon away like a rag doll and enveloped Amelia and Jethro. As Solomon rushed toward it, it disappeared with his wife and child once again. He collapsed to the ground, sobbing openly as the Ardent had taken his family from him once more._

* * *

Solomon woke up the next morning with a splitting headache. Very obviously hungover, he stumbled into the bathroom and vomited into the toilet. His face was wet with tears but his rage was building. The nightmare had fueled the anger inside of him that he was trying to mask. He staggered back into the inn room and struggled to put on his armor, his eyesight blurring from time to time. He tossed his boot on the floor and sprawled out on the bed, closing his eyes.

*Knock, knock, knock*

Solomon looked at the door and fumbled his way to it. Outside was a woman who he recognized as the Innkeeper, Griselda, who had brought some coffee and juice for him. She smiled at him and handed him the tray with the drinks on it, "Ya looked really bad off last night, ya know. Never seen a Dark Knight look so troubled."

Solomon nodded at Griselda, his eyes squinting, "It…was a tough day. Thank you for the drinks."

"Ya stayin' another night?"

"Yes ma'am. How much?"

"100 gil a night," said Griselda. "As long as ya have the cash, I dun ask the questions."

"Here," said Solomon, handing Griselda a large sack of gil, "I don't know how much is in there, but it should suffice for a while. I'm not sure when I'll be leaving Bastok."

"Ya sure ya wanna give me this much? You can stay here as long as ya like!" said Griselda, leaving the room.

Solomon bowed his head and closed the door. He sat on the bed and drank his coffee. The hangover was lessening, but his anger was renewed. He donned his armor and lifted his sword. The blood from the Quadav had stained the blade, but he no longer felt remorse for what he had done. Sheathing his sword he headed downstairs and back to the Palborough Mines.

**_"Kill them…kill them all."_ **

Solomon closed his eyes and looked into the mines. He didn't know where the voice was coming from, but he honestly didn't care. He unsheathed his sword and narrowed his eyes. There were hundreds of Quadav in the Mines and they trained their eyes on him as he entered the mines. Mages converged on his location almost immediately and he cut them down without a second thought. He saw Dark Knights and Warriors start rushing at him as he continued north and then east. He shot them down with Darkness shooting from the tip of his sword. Another rushed at him and he ran it through.

As he pulled the sword from the Warrior, he took a look around and felt nothing but pleasure over killing them. His hatred toward himself for letting his family be taken had taken over his mind and he was more than willing to kill anything in his path. He heard a cruel laughter in his mind and it escaped his lips after he killed another Quadav. He thirsted for more blood.

A moment later, he was at the entrance of a stairwell. More monsters in general were there, but he cut them down as though they were paper. Finally, as he reached the top of the stairs, he looked down at the sword and laughed. He didn't recognize his own voice and his sensible side finally came back to the surface and was abhorred by what had happened. He continued onward to find this mysterious Zeid. He had already looked through one floor and began to search through the second floor.

**_"Give into it. Your anger and rage feed you."_ **

As the part of himself that despised violence tried to come back to the surface, the voice that permeated his thoughts made him give into his depravity. As a man who was a gifted White Mage and taught keepers-in-training the value and sanctity of life, it was as though he gave up those teachings entirely for this life of death in order to cope with his pain. The Quadav, the monsters on the second floor of the Palborough Mines, nothing stopped him from going onward to find Zeid. Nothing would stop him from becoming a better Dark Knight.

It never had occurred to him that having a Dark Knight as a Keeper of the Realms was something that was a rarity. The laws of the Keepers strictly forbade acts of violence against the Realms, with the exceptions of monsters and now Ardent infused beings. In Solomon's current state of mind, the beastmen were not inhabitants of the Realms that needed to be protected, but monsters ready to be slain. The voice in his head continued to beckon him to kill more and more, until his armor was stained in blood. He completed the search of the Second Floor and continued onward to the Third Floor.

Here, there were even more monsters and they were stronger than those on the first and second floors. Even with the strength of the beastmen and monsters being more than tenfold of their lower level counterparts, Solomon was able to cut through them through sheer skill and cunning. He shot out a darkness bolt from his sword and felt the pain rise inside of him. He felt he might have used too much of the dark power that Cecil taught him, but he continued onward.

**"Your pain and hatred strengthen me!"**

Solomon turned swiftly and looked around, knocked from his trancelike state. The voice that had just spoken with him was not the same voice as before. It was darker, more sinister. He looked down at his sword which was covered in the blood of the Quadav and monsters and felt sick again. He shook his head and tried to rein in his anger and resentment to be able to continue with a level head. He looked ahead of him and saw a boat on a stream in front of him. On that boat was a man who was seated, clad in dark armor. He was cleaning and sharpening his sword and kicked a lifeless Quadav off the boat into the water.

Solomon, having been brought to his senses, groaned loudly and clutched his chest, dropping to a knee. The agony was immeasurable. He didn't remember being struck by any of the monsters that he fought, but pain shot through his arms and legs. He felt his vision fading but pulled out a potion from a black pouch on his side and drank it quickly. He realized something was hitting him in the back at that point and turned with his sword at the ready to face it.

It was very obviously a Young Quadav throwing rocks at Solomon. He felt his heart catch in his throat, as even the evil side of him could never hurt a child. Or he didn't believe that it could. He sheathed his sword and walked over to the child, kneeling to him. He was frightened, and rightfully so, but Solomon's good heart came out rather than the darkness that had overtaken him.

"I'm not going to hurt you, little one. Be a good boy now and run along home," said Solomon gently. The mask might have muffled his voice, but he hoped that the boy understood.

"This IS my home!" screamed the little boy, punching Solomon's armor. "You killed everyone!"

Solomon sucked in his breath for a moment. He honestly hadn't realized that he had destroyed someone's home. He thought for a moment about what Gumbah had told him about the Quadav and the Palborough mines. The Humes and Galka had pushed the Quadav from these mines and then the Quadav pushed them back out of the mines. The chances of this younger Quadav living in this mine and it being his home were slim.

"Boy, you need to go back home. These mines are not your home," said Solomon, trying to be civil with the young beastman.

"You're a meanie!" the boy yelled and ran off.

Solomon shook his head and began to walk back to the stream with the man on the boat. He was still a ways off, but he was sitting there, looking as though he were either waiting for someone or just resting away from the world. Solomon was sure that this was Zeid, the man that Gumbah had told him about.

He approached the man on the boat and the man without looking back at him, "I watched you from far off and I can sense that you have felled many enemies. Why have you come here?"

"I seek more training as a dark knight Sir Zeid," said Solomon, bowing to him.

"How do you know me?"

"Gumbah told me if I wished to have more training, I should seek you out. He also spoke of Werei and Volker."

"You say Gumbah told you about me? That child is always crossing the line. I had thought I might visit the Mines District...but if they are still there, I should probably not," said Zeid.

"Gumbah seems eager to speak with you regarding Werei," said Solomon.

"It's unfortunate what happened to Werei, but I will not return," said Zeid coldly, "You said that you wish for more training. The way of the dark knight is not one to be taken lightly. It is a hopeless road, where anger and sorrow are your only companions."

"Those are already my only companions, Sir Zeid," said Solomon solemnly. "I have nothing left, other than my anger, hatred and sorrow."

"If you still wish to train with me, then take this sword. Let it feed on your bloodlust and the blood of your enemies."

Zeid handed a sword to Solomon that was much larger than his one handed sword. As he gave the Greatsword to Solomon, Solomon buckled under the weight and had to wield it with both hands. Zeid laughed as he struggled with it. Solomon looked up at him and finally lifted the sword, albeit a cumbersome wield.

"I'm used to a one handed sword. This will present, oof, a new challenge for me," said Solomon, straining to carry the sword.

"100 enemies," said Zeid flatly.

"What?" asked Solomon, confused.

"You must kill 100 enemies with the Chaosbringer. I must go. I have some 'business' to attend to in Beadeaux, the Quadav stronghold. Sate that sword's hunger, and we will meet again..." said Zeid, rowing the boat away from Solomon.

Solomon watched as the boat disappeared and looked down at his new weapon. The weight of this sword was immense and he could barely wield it to slash once, let alone be able to kill monsters with it. He'd certainly cleave a beast in twain with it though. Cecil had let him hold Greatswords before but they were nothing in comparison to this.

As a Quadav charged for him, he smashed it with the sword, getting gore all over everything. The sword lit up as if in approval. Solomon was disgusted by everything all over him and on the floor and couldn't imagine doing this 99 more times. He was also getting rather exhausted, but did not want to go back to the Bat Lair Inn covered in the blood and guts of the Quadav. He looked to the stream of water that Zeid's boat was in and walked to it.

He sat next to the stream and removed his armor and began to quickly wash it off, blood running from the armor. He knew that there would be more fighting before he got back to the Inn, and wanted to finish this fool's errand of 100 enemies killed with the Chaosbringer as quickly as he could. The weight of the sword was at least twice that of a normal Greatsword. He also wanted to know where Beadeaux was, so he decided to approach Gumbah for some more information. He put his armor back on and headed back out of the Palborough Mines, defeating a few more of the Quadav with the Chaosbringer. The sword glowed brightly and Solomon shook his head. Looking over the sword, it was nearly clean, where he was completely covered in blood and innards.

Part of him relished the blood and carnage he was causing, and he felt that that part of him was taking over his mind. He heard a dark voice constantly talking to him and trying to goad him into fighting. He wasn't sure if this was because of being a Dark Knight, the Chaosbringer or if Ifrit was right and the Ardent was using his pain and grief to take him over. He could not shake it from his mind and even through exhaustion, he still felt an evil grin escaping from his lips and the laughter that was not his own continued on.

As he reached the Bat's Lair Inn, he felt more Galka staring at him. He had felt the Humes staring at him as well. He was outcasted, but he liked it that way. The less people wanted to be around him, the easier it would be to leave. The only people he would have to memory wipe right now were Gumbah, Zeid and Griselda, and Zeid had never seen his face. Ordering a couple bottles of whiskey, he headed back to his room and finally had a moment to relax.

* * *

Over the coming weeks, Solomon was able to kill the 100 enemies as requested by Zeid. The nightmares returned to him every night and propelled him to kill more and more and the sensible side of him was quickly vanishing. He didn't know who he was becoming, but the part of him that would disagree with him becoming it was nearly gone. He also felt himself getting much stronger due to wielding the giant sword.

Heading north through North Gustaberg, he entered the Konschtat Highlands. Gumbah told him that the Quadav stronghold was far north and he would have to go through the Pashhow Marshlands. Any creature that stood in his path was cut down with his massive blade as he continued north to the Marshlands. Following the map, he was able to reach the marshlands within a couple of hours. His boots began to sink into the squishy marsh and he began to traverse this area.

His heavy armor caused him to struggle to get through to the west where he was headed, but he continued onward, even as the sun beat down on him, causing him to at least remove his helmet. The humidity was killing him as the wet heat soaked into his armor and underarmor. There were not many enemies here, but Solomon made short work of them when they appeared.

As he continued west, he cut down more and more Quadav without a show of any remorse. He thought back to his dreams where his wife pulled out his heart and his heart was darkening more and more with every kill, with every laugh, with every malicious grin. He gripped the hilt of his blade and charged forward again, killing more of the Quadav in his path. He had reached Beadeaux, the stronghold of the Quadav.

He saw Zeid, sitting outside, sharpening his blade. Solomon approached him and held out the Chaosbringer, "100."

Zeid looked up at Solomon and a cruel smile escaped his lips, "I see you have learned to bear the weight of that blade…it is the weight of the lives you have taken with it." Solomon nodded emotionlessly. He had given up remorse for his actions long ago. "It is up to you to choose whether or not you will walk down the bloody path of the dark knight. But it might be wise to confront your past, first, before you make your final decision..."

"My past is why I do this," stated Solomon.

"Then your training to become a dark knight is already complete. As long as your blade craves for the souls of your enemies, our paths may cross again," said Zeid.

"I look forward to it," said Solomon.

"Soon that sword will no longer be fitting of your ability. Until then, farewell," said Zeid, entering into Beadeaux.

As Solomon watched the Dark Knight leave, he wondered at the point of doing any of this was. He learned no new skills to his knowledge and his entire mind and soul had changed into something that he didn't recognize. He put the Chaosbringer on his back like it was nothing and began to walk back to Bastok when he became surrounded by at least a dozen Quadav, bigger and angrier than the others he had fought in the past.

Solomon pulled his sword off of his back and began to attempt to cut them down, but they took much more of a punishment than their comrades from the Palborough Mines and Solomon soon found himself to be outnumbered. Not to be outmatched, he felt a dark power welling up inside of him that burst forth in his sword. He felt that it was consuming his life force, but he didn't care.

**_"Use it now! Eat their souls! Feed your pain!"_ **

"I use my own life force to end yours. Your souls are mine! Souleater!" yelled Solomon, slashing through two of the Quadav. He felt his life draining from him as the fight continued, but that kept him going even more. He heard the Dark Knight inside's voice cackling in glee.

**_"Now drain them of their energy! Refill your own using theirs!"_ **

As if there was someone or something else controlling him, he saw his sword glow blood red. Every hit consumed some of his life, but also refilled it. As the power of the Souleater left him, he dispatched the remaining Quadavs, absorbing their energy. He thought to the Professor and how disappointed that he would be. Solomon was a pure hearted man who loved life, laughter and everything good. He looked at his sword and the blood dripping from it and wondered what he would think. The darkness in his heart had reached his soul, and he was numb from the pain.

He sheathed his sword and walked away from the carnage that he had caused. Counting the twelve he had just killed, he had taken 149 lives with the Chaosbringer. He did not care. He had no remorse for what he had done. _'The Ardent kills without remorse,'_ he thought. _'Damn what the Professor thinks! He just wants me to stay a White Mage and nothing more. I will be what I want, not what he wants! I will destroy the Ardent myself, even if it kills me!'_

* * *

_He awoke again in Ifrit's Realm. 'Again this dream, again this nightmare,' he thought grudgingly. He looked and sure enough, Amelia was asleep next to him. He heard Jethro's laughter from another room. Amelia turned over and smiled at him, but his face stayed stoic and unemotional. She tried to touch him, but he moved away._

_"Solomon, what's wrong?"_

_"This dream. Every single night, the same damn dream. You're alive, then taken by the Ardent," he scowled. He plunged his hand into his chest and ripped out the deep red crystalized heart. It no longer had any vibrancy to it, just darkness. "Is this what you want Ardent bastard?! To have the light leave my heart?!"_

_"Solomon, honey, he wants you to join us," said Amelia._

_"Yes daddy, come play with us!" said Jethro, appearing in the room._

_"It's not all bad here, Solomon," said Amelia, grabbing his hand and leading him to the closet where they always disappeared. Solomon stood back as a shadowed figure of himself appeared and picked up Jethro._

**"Give your heart to me, Solomon. Only then will you be free from your pain."**

_Solomon reared back, "Never." He put his crystal dream heart into his chest and drew his sword. The shadowy figure hissed and disappeared with Jethro and Amelia in tow. Solomon's anger would not allow for more tears. He punched a hole in the wall in the dream world, and went back to sleep, knowing someday, he would have his revenge._


	5. To Heal a Black Heart

Over the next weeks and months, Solomon continued to listen to the black sword, Chaosbringer, and the voice of the Dark Knight inside as it told him what to do. He learned that he could use his black magic as a Dark Knight as well, which made him all the more powerful. He traveled to San D'Oria and helped the Elvaan with a massive Orc problem that they were having. The Orc population had sky rocketed to an all-time high, and the Elvaan there were having trouble containing them and keeping them out of the city. Solomon agreed to help the Elvaan in one particular mission regarding saving children from the grasps of the Orcs.

The mission, to Solomon, was simple. It was given to him by the royalty of San D'Oria, Prince Pieuje, after Solomon had helped with a couple of other problems with the Orcs. The Orcs themselves in the Ghelsba Outpost proved no threat to him and he made short work of all who stood in his path. When it came to the Fodderchief however, something was off about it. His eyes were red and his body was glowing black. Solomon had seen this aura before in the monsters that had attacked The City of Flame. This monster was possessed by the Ardent, and he needed to defeat it quickly.

Approaching Fodderchief Vokdek, he rushed in, only to be thrown back into a nearby hut. His Rangers, Strongarm Zodvad and Sureshot Snatgat, laughed as he was thrown like a rag doll.

**_"Are you going to allow them to laugh at you? Bathe in their blood!"_ **

Solomon nodded, submitting to the Dark Knight's voice. He ran Zodvad through with the Chaosbringer and then turned to face Snatgat, who cackled maniacally at him. Snatgat shot an arrow at Solomon and then bolted away, continuing to laugh. Solomon noted that Vokdek had not moved from where he was, but had a vile grin on his face.

**_"The magic. THE MAGIC! Use the magic!"_ **

Solomon glanced at Snatgat, hearing the voice in his head laughing with a cruel glee. He chanted, "May your heart turn black and wither away. Bio II!" While chanting he stretched his hand out and as the chant ended, he closed his hand into a fist.

Snatgat continued to laugh for a moment then looked down at himself in horror as a hole appeared in his chest. He began to melt from the inside out and within moments, he was nothing but a puddle on the ground. Solomon completely unfazed, turned to face Vokdek.

**"You have done well, Archivist,"** the Fodderchief said, the Ardent speaking through him.

"I don't have to answer to you, Ardent scum!" shouted Solomon, his temper raging inside of him. He wanted to destroy this creature that the Ardent had taken over. He began to cast an absorption spell to absorb the strength of Vokdek.

**"You dare try to absorb my power?!"** screeched the Ardent Vokdek, rushing at Solomon. Solomon, having been strengthened by the power of the Fodderchief, slashed at Vokdek, deeply cutting his arm.

"I use my own life force to end yours! Soul Eater!" chanted Solomon. He then imbued his weapon with the blood of both Snatgat and Zodvad to absorb their energy and not expend too much of his life for much greater power. As Vokdek rushed at him again, Solomon swiftly sliced the Fodderchief in half. As the top half of his body hit the ground, Solomon saw the Ardent rush from him and the light leave the eyes of Vokdek.

After the Fodderchief's defeat, he went to the door of the large hut, where he heard the cries of the children that were locked up inside.

"Wait!" yelled a voice from behind. Prince Trion also had been fighting Orcs to be able to get to this location. "You have fought bravely against the Orcs! Well done!"

"You honor me with your words your highness," said Solomon, bowing.

"Might I know your name, so that we can honor you properly?" asked Trion.

"I am but a traveler with no name. It is best that way," said Solomon, looking away.

"You are better than that lousy brother of mine, Dark Knight. Sending an adventurer to do his job. It's enough to make my blood boil," spat Trion. "But enough about that, let's see what's inside shall we?"

Solomon followed and they found a young boy from the Cathedral at San D'Oria along with a couple other young Elvaan males in the hut. They escorted the boys back to San D'Oria and Solomon attempted to slip out unnoticed. Unfortunately for him, in rescuing the children, he made quite a name for himself. He kept his face hidden by his helmet, but that did not prevent the rumors spreading about a benevolent Dark Knight who saved the children from the hands of Fodderchief Vokdek and his rangers. This rumor spread to Windhurst and Bastok as well to all sorts of people of all races. Many sought the Dark Knight's power, but few could find him.

Solomon then traveled to the kingdom of Windurst, trying to master most of the skills of the Dark Knight like he had the magical classes of Black and White Mage. He noticed that Dark Knight was much harder to master, which was why he continued to train daily. In his inn room at the Bat's Lair Inn, he had almost a miniature library with the amount of literature on Dark Knights and the world of Vana'diel. He picked up a couple books as well on White and Black Magic, just in case there was something new that he didn't know from the Eleventh Realm.

In Windurst, he helped control the population of the Yagudo, again gaining this nameless Dark Knight more fame. Being found by Moreno-Toeno, a Tarutaru, he was charged with going to the Tahrongi Canyon for a mission to defeat monsters, including the Yagudo, and come back. He had one day to complete it and it was a mission to test the powers of a doll that could count the number of monsters maimed there. Solomon chuckled at the task but it gave him a reason to sate the Dark Knight's voice in his head. Completing that task, he slipped away once more before anyone was the wiser. The beastmen now feared the unnamed Dark Knight's power, while the citizens of Vana'diel praised and lauded it.

Solomon knew it was time to head back to Ifrit's Archives. He had gone back three times to visit Amelia and Jethro's graves, so he knew it had been at least three years, and quickly approaching four years since he came to this realm. Everything about it had fascinated him. He had more maps than he even knew what to do with now, but he wouldn't have wanted to have it any other way.

He decided that he wanted to spend a couple more nights just to pour over the books once more and studying the maps. He would take the maps with him, but he wasn't sure if he could carry all of the books. He hadn't yet perfected the never-ending bag enchantment that some of the other Keepers and Archivists had. His pack was definitely bigger on the inside, but not enough big enough to keep the hundred or so books that he had acquired from different areas around the world.

As he entered Bastok again, the place that now felt like home, he decided to go to Port Bastok for a while to sit near the water. It had become his favorite place to think and to read. He had a couple of books in his pack on the Monsters of the Eleventh Realm. He hadn't realized that he had barely looked into monsters before in the Archives but had become very interesting. He had become an Archivist at 16 years old, younger than the age limitation of 18, because of his white magic abilities. He sighed to himself looking over the water and then back down to the book. He saw a picture of a Shadow Dragon from the Xarcabard area and memories flooded to him, about Amelia, the archives, Professor Ifrit…everything.

* * *

 

_ He had been young when he met Amelia, but there was an instant attraction between them. Professor Ifrit had put them together one day for a mission into the realms. He was 14 and a lanky White Mage with a shaggy head of bright red hair. She was 16, a Paladin, strong, smart and beautiful. There was a dragon that had gotten free where it ought not have been in the Third Realm. Luneth, Refia, Arc and Ingus would not have been able to defeat it as the time when it had appeared was barely after the four used Cid's airship to barrel through a rock slide. Luneth bravely stood up to the powerful dragon that was only rarely seen on the surface world under the water in the Temple of Time, and the other three heroes stood behind him. _

_ Solomon heard Refia's cry and grabbed Amelia's hand, running toward the sound. She giggled slightly and ran along with him. She was surprised at his speed, but kept up with him all the same. As they reached the dragon, Luneth had taken a knee and Ingus was lying on the ground. Arc shivered as he attempted to heal them and Refia rushed in for an attack. The dragon reared back and was about to hit Refia. She braced for impact and all that could be heard was the loud crash of a dragon's claws on a metal shield. Amelia had rushed in and defended Refia while Solomon quickly healed them back to full health. The four heroes stared in awe of their combined powers and helped in any way that they could. _

_ Casting Shellga on the whole party to brace for a breath attack and then Protectga to be able to weather a swipe attack, Solomon chanted, "Light that shines as bright as the day, shine down and cleanse this unclean beast! DIAGA!" _

_ Amelia stopped focusing on the Dragon as the holy aura flashed from his fingertips and hit the Dragon. The Dragon collapsed and disappeared, but Amelia never took her eyes off of the White Mage who had just felled a powerful opponent with White Magic that she had only read about in class. He noticed her staring, and began to feel a bit self-conscious about it, but her gaze did not leave him or his hands. _

_ She looked down and then back at the heroes, "Go home, you did good today," she said, blowing a kiss at Luneth. The four heroes did as they were told and Solomon and Amelia could hear them talking amongst themselves as Refia asked Arc why his robe was ripped when it wasn't before and they all teased each other. _

_ Amelia turned to Solomon, "How did you do that?" _

_ "Hmm?" he asked. _

_ "I've never seen anyone of your age be able to cast a spell like that," she said dumbfounded. _

_ "I don't know what you mean," said Solomon, attempting to dodge the question. _

_ "You're a prodigy kid! That White Magic was a level four spell!" said Amelia, a mixture between excited and confused. _

_ Solomon brushed his hair out of his face, revealing his jade eyes, "I'm just good with White Magic. Just like you're good with the sword." _

_ "If I was near as good with the sword as you are with White Magic-" _

_ "It's really not that big of a deal, Amy!" said Solomon flustered. _

_ Amelia looked at him and cocked her head, "What…what did you call me?" _

_ "Sorry, sorry Amelia. I just…" _

_ She smiled at him, "Come on, let's go home." They began to walk back to the town of Canaan. "And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have overreacted about it, but I've actually never seen a Keeper be able to use and control White Magic like you do." _

_ Solomon scoffed, "You sound like the Professor." _

_ Amelia stopped and chuckled, "You know what, let's start over. I'm Amelia and I'm a Paladin. What's your name?" He kept a straight face and said nothing so she continued, "Oh, I like the silent, strong types." He couldn't help but crack a small smile at her tease. "I like to bake." _

_ "I…I like to play the piano and draw," said Solomon shyly. _

_ "I'd love to hear you play," said Amelia, continuing back to Canaan. _

_ Solomon smiled, "Solomon…my name is Solomon and I'm a White Mage." _

_ "But that's not all you are, is it Sol?" _

_ Solomon didn't respond and began to chant the Teleport spell as they warped back to Ifrit's Archives. As they appeared in the Third Realm's Library, Solomon closed the book where they came from. He turned to Amelia who had already begun to leave and put his hand on her, "Amy?" _

_ "That's the second time you've called me that. No one has ever called me that," said Amelia, hiding a smile but not turning back to him. _

_ "If you don't like it-" _

_ "I didn't say that." _

_ Solomon felt his face go red and butterflies rising in his stomach, "Do you wanna…grab something to eat?" _

_ Amelia turned to Solomon swiftly and smiled, "Are you asking me on a date, Keeper Solomon?" _

_ "Only if you want to go with me, Keeper Amelia." _

* * *

 

Solomon continued through the book he was reading on monsters. He had seen quite a few of the monsters in the Eleventh Realm, but there was still so much he hadn't seen. He thought about staying here forever, maybe leaving the Archives and giving up his life in the Keeper's Realm and being written into history here. He took off his heavy boots and dangled his feet into the water while reading the two books on the beasts of the Eleventh Realm.

He felt a small tap on his shoulder and looked behind him. There stood a Mithra, dirty and poor, and looked desperate for money or someone to help her.

"You look like you need companionship," she said to Solomon. "I believe that I have the purrrfect thing for you."

"I'm not interested," said Solomon, standing and putting on his boots.

He began to walk away and she grabbed his arm, "I'll show you a great time. Take me back to your room."

She was insistent and finally Solomon relented and took her back to the Bat's Inn Lair to his room. Instead of forcing her to give what she was selling, he offered her a drink and a bath. He was truly not interested in what she was was selling, but was not opposed to having her with him for a night. As she bathed in the lavatory attached to his room, he removed his armor and dressed in the common clothes of Bastok, an open white shirt that exposed his chest and loose tan pants. He poured the two of them some whiskey and nursed his glass, thinking about this woman he had found on the streets.

*knock, knock, knock*

He heard a gasp from the bathroom and he walked to that door. The nude Mithra ran into him enshrouded in a towel and nearly knocked him over. Her eyes wide with terror.

"What's wrong?" he asked, putting his arms around her.

She buried her face into his chest, "They've come for me. They know I went for help..."

Solomon led her back to the bathroom and said, "Worry not. I'll protect you."

"There is so much darkness in you, how could you protect me?" she asked, her eyes drenched in tears.

"But where there is darkness, there was once light. I may have wanted to be a Dark Knight because of my pain, but I will not allow another's pain in my sight," said Solomon. "You will be safe here."

The woman looked at Solomon, seemingly for the first time and blushed. She had not realized that he would be so handsome under the armor. She peered into his eyes, which once were jade green and now were a much darker green, and she did not see any maliciousness in them. She stood on her tip toes and kissed him gently mouthing, "Thank you" as she went back into the bathroom. His face went bright red and he blinked a number of times before answering the persistent knocking on this door.

He opened the door to the young Galka, Gumbah, "Solomon! I knew you would be back eventually!"

"Can I help you, Gumbah?" asked Solomon.

"Yes! I got a letter FROM ZEID!" said Gumbah excitedly. "It might have been addressed to you, but he sent it to me to give it to you!"

"From Zeid? Thanks Gumbah," said Solomon taking the letter from Gumbah and placing his hand on the Galka's shoulder, "Don't be a stranger okay?"

Gumbah nodded happily and headed out of the Bat's Lair Inn. Solomon opened the letter from Zeid:

 

Make your blade shine with even deeper darkness, and go to the lost mines. Once there, drown your blade in the waters that call the horrid beast. Only then shall I give you the power you so thirst for.

-Zeid

 

"Lost...Mines?" thought Solomon aloud. He walked back to his table with his whiskey and sat down. He swished it around in the while pulling out all of the maps he had procured from the three capital cities and looked for a mine that might not be marked.  _ 'I guess I could stick around for a bit longer. This intrigues me.' _

The Mithra walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her. Her long white hair shone brightly and her ears twitched. She saw Solomon pouring over some maps then took stock of her surroundings. She was not sure if this man would help her, but she was certain that he would not hurt her.

"Thank you," she said, quietly.

"It was nothing," he said.

"I've heard of you," the woman said. "The Dark Knight who protects Vana'diel." Solomon looked up at her with a bit of annoyance and then went back to his maps. "No one has ever seen your face, and no one knows your name."

"So you came to find me," said Solomon, visibly annoyed and rolling up a couple maps. "Who are you, and what do you want?"

"I need your help. My daughter has been kidnapped. If I can get them money, they won't hurt her. I don't know where she is, but I believe that she may be in one of the mines."

Solomon looked away and breathed in sharply. When Gumbah had visited him, this woman had thought the people who wanted to hurt her daughter had found her. He thought about how he would feel if it was Jethro and he did not know where his son was. He wanted to help her, but he didn't know how he could.

"Solomon."

"Pardon?" the woman asked.

"My name is Solomon. And I will help you find your daughter."

"Oh thank you! My name is Ariana. My daughter is only three years old and her name is Faelina."

"What's the rate for your services?" asked Solomon, looking over a map once more.

Ariana looked at him inquisitively and her tail flicked a little, "Are…are you wanting to-?"

Solomon rolled his eyes and shook his head, "No, I have a feeling you've been through too much of that kind of abuse in the name of keeping your daughter alive. I'm not going to take advantage of you. I will give you the money you need to continue paying them."

Ariana burst into tears. She felt she had found an incredibly kind spirit in a Dark Knight of all people.  _ 'His heart is dark, but his soul is pure. I've never met anyone like him. Not to mention he is cute! Baby girl, mama is gonna find you.' _

"Thank you, Solomon."

Solomon grunted in response and nudged a glass of whiskey toward her. He was too caught up in his map to pay too much attention to her. When he looked up, Ariana was next to him, looking at the map with him. She traced a path and pointed to a couple of possible locations.

"We could try going to the Palborough Mines first. That mine connects to a lot of different places due to the river that flows through it," said Ariana, nodding to herself.

Solomon looked up at her with one eyebrow raised, "And who says you're coming with me?"

"I do!" said Ariana, revealing two daggers. "I'm a Dancer, but don't let that fool you. I'm much more useful with you than I appear." She did a solo waltz in front of Solomon and he felt the holy aura from the dance healing any wounds that he still had from earlier that day. He turned his head but she pulled out a scarf and put it around his arms. As he looked at her, he was mesmerized by her dance, unable to break her gaze.

Solomon shook his head quickly as the dance ended and rolled his eyes, "Just stay out of my way." Ariana nodded and yawned loudly. Solomon gestured to the bed, "I'll sleep on the couch. You can take the bed. You deserve it."

Ariana hugged him tightly, silently thanking him. He stayed awake a little longer but dimmed the lamp by the bed. As he poured over the maps, he couldn't get her out of his mind. He glanced at the sleeping Mithra, then walked over the the bed, pulling the blanket over her.  _ 'I don't know about her, but she seems harmless enough. She's adorable, I'm not going to try to lie to myself. What is it about her that I can't get out of my mind?' _

* * *

 

Over the coming weeks, Ariana joined Solomon and fought alongside him to find the mines where she believed her daughter was being held. They traveled through each kingdom, searching for any sort of mines that would not be listed specifically on the map. Solomon was also looking for Zeid, but with the cryptic message that he was given, it had proven to be difficult. Ariana knew that Solomon was trying to find someone as well and was helping her to help himself, but as long as he could put aside his own selfish ambitions, she was happy he was traveling with her.

Ariana noted in her travels with him that it seemed as though he sometimes followed another's lead. It was like there were two parts of him in his head: the sensible one that agreed to help her find Faelina and who was helping her, and the maniac who only wanted to bathe in the blood of his enemies. The latter scared her, and when they were fighting monsters, the cruel laughter that escaped his lips was not from him, but almost like it was from somewhere else.

Solomon too took note of his new traveling companion. She used multiple dance steps to weaken an enemy and then an Animated Flourish to make the enemy watch her. He recognized the moves that she did as what had entranced him that night, but used her dances to be able to defeat the enemies quickly and move on. He would allow her to defeat some of the enemies on her own if only to watch her. He was intrigued by her and wanted to watch her dance more and more, but pulled his gaze from her to continue to fight.

One night in the Bat's Lair Inn, they poured over the maps once more. Solomon had marked on the map where they had been and where they hadn't and he was getting frustrated due to the lack of momentum on finding either Faelina or Zeid. There was a small area that might have been a mine to the Northeast of Bastok. It was not specifically labeled but in a book that he had read about the Konschtat Highlands, there was a mine that was not listed on the map.

Ariana paced back and forth in Solomon's room. Every morning, Solomon had given her some gil to give to the people who had her daughter, but they were beginning to realize that she was not struggling to get the gil needed for their daily payments. She pulled out the newest letter they had sent to her and they were asking for much more than they had before.  _ 'This is a trap,'  _ she thought frightened.  _ 'If I give them this much, they'll know that I'm no longer working alone. I'll just get him killed. I need to leave tonight.' _

"Ariana, I think that we might need to go here," said Solomon, pointing at a small mine area. "I don't have a map for the area, but I think we can trek through it and…"

Ariana couldn't pay attention to anything Solomon was saying. She stared at the letter again when Solomon turned back to the map. Her ears lowered sadly. At the bottom was a very messy scribbling that said "I luv u mama." Ariana's eyes welled up with tears reading that scribble over and over again.  _ 'My smart baby girl. Mama will find you.' _

"…should be there by mid-afternoon," continued Solomon, turning to face Ariana. "And you've not been paying attention to a single word I've said."

"Hmm? Oh right, sounds good," said Ariana, attempting to hide the letter.

Solomon noticed it and turned with his back to her again, "Another note huh?"

Ariana looked at him and then down at the note that was now crumpled in her hand. Her hand balled into a tight fist around the letter, "It's nothing."

Solomon, noticing this, chuckled softly, almost surprising himself, "You're a woman. Saying that it's nothing does not mean it's nothing."

"You act like you know me so well," scoffed Ariana angrily.

"I was married once. I know that tone of voice," said Solomon, his tone sad and smug at the same time.

Ariana said nothing back to him. He rarely spoke about his past, and he had opened the door for her to come in. She wanted to run and hide, never come back. She was going to leave that night. She didn't want to get him hurt because of her. She wanted to protect him.

"You're going to leave, aren't you?" asked Solomon. He didn't want her to leave as he had craved the companionship that she had provided him. He had someone to talk to and he hadn't realized how much he had needed that until he had met her. He also wasn't going to stop her if she wanted to leave, although he knew he would have to wipe her memory before she did.

"You've got your own problems to deal with without having to deal with mine," said Ariana, packing what little she had quietly.

Solomon turned to her and watched her for a moment, then stood and put his hand on her shoulder while she was looking for something that had fallen from her bag, "I was a father too…I'm not letting your daughter stay with whoever has her."

Ariana stopped and looked up at him. She had no words for what he had just said to her. All this time, she had assumed he was a single man who was angry about some perceived injustice. Even the comment about him being married did not phase her, as he could have been divorced, but the use of the past tense made her question what he was meaning.  _ 'Could he have possibly lost a child? Why would he not mention anything about this? I have to know.' _

"…Was?"

Solomon nodded slowly and walked to the bed in the room. He thought of Jethro and the anger and pain returned to him. He was unable to protect Jethro, but he was determined to protect Ariana and find her daughter. Sitting down on the bed, he balled his hands in fists as he attempted to contain his rage toward the Ardent who took his son from him.

Ariana stopped packing and walked to Solomon. She sat next to him, putting her hand on his and said, "I-I've been selfish. Here I was talking about Faelina and you listened. I-I never once thought that-"

"That I was a husband and a father? It's… okay. They're…they're gone now," said Solomon, looking out at the night skies of Bastok. The sadness in his heart bled out into his words. He wasn't sure why he was opening up to Ariana, but something felt right about her. He knew he had needed to talk to someone about this for quite some time, but never could find the right words, or the right person.

"It's not okay Solomon! Tell me about him…about them," said Ariana, putting her head on his shoulder.

Solomon initially opened his mouth to object, but stories of Jethro and Amelia came pouring out of his mouth as though they were still alive. He smiled and told her happily, the happiest he had been in nearly seven years. He stood up and energetically told her about the Archives, even the Eidolons and the University. Ariana sat enthralled with the stories of this Dark Knight for hours. She couldn't believe that this man who seemingly killed without remorse was once a White Mage, or that he could have been a husband and father. Even the thought of him being a teacher was strange to her.

"…Jethro was a Keeper-in-Training, you know. Going to be a Spellblade, he was," said Solomon, sitting back down, his tone turning more melancholy. "I should've saved him…"

Ariana timidly stroked his cheek, "There was no way you could have, Sol. You tried everything." He looked at her sadly, a tear wanting to come out but it wouldn't move from his eye. She brushed it away as it finally fell, "Tell me more about the Archives and this world you come from."

Solomon realized then that he had said way too much. This woman was a denizen of the Eleventh Realm, and per law, she was not allowed to know anything about the Archives or his world. Maybe Ifrit would never find out since he could just wipe her memory of anything dealing with him. He knew he couldn't let anything else slip about the Ancient Archives.

Changing the subject, he asked, "What did the note say, Ariana?"

Surprised by his sudden seriousness, she shook her head, her ears lowering, and angrily said, "It's nothing. I already told you!"

"Hey, there is no reason to be angry with me, Ariana!" said Solomon, betraying his frustration.

"I don't know why you won't listen to me!" Ariana said, standing up and grabbing her bag, the note falling out almost as soon as she stuffed it inside. She rushed for the door and then took a step back when she noticed the letter was gone.

She watched with sadness and frustration as Solomon walked to it and picked it up. Reading over it, he noticed it was one line with the scribbles in the corner, "We want 50,000 gil by tomorrow morning or she's dead."

"Ariana…" His anger subsiding when reading the note, "Why didn't you just tell me they were asking for more? I'll give you as much as you need."

"I'm not going to have them find out that you're working with me!" she shouted, tears running down her face, ears pointed straight back. "I like you too much to get you hurt!" She tried to move to leave but she couldn't bring herself to move as she collapsed on the ground sobbing, her tail curled around her. "They're going to kill her, and there's nothing that I can do to stop it."

Solomon cocked his head and saw the scribbling at the bottom. Seeing the words there, he felt a small smile escape his lips. He walked over to her and picked her up from the ground, putting his arms around her in a protective hug, "We stop them then. I'll give you the gil for tomorrow. We will find Faelina. I promise."

She dropped her bag and put her arms around his neck, "Why? Why do want to help me?"

"I couldn't protect Jethro when he needed me, be it my fault or not. I am not going do nothing while another child could be suffering," said Solomon, stroking her face. "And because…never mind."

"What is it?" she asked, nuzzling his neck, her tail curled around his leg.

He looked her in the eyes and she knew what he wanted to say to her, but she wanted him to say it out loud. He then looked away, "I can't."

"Why not?" she purred at him.

"I've told you about the Archives. I'm an Archivist there and I uphold the laws," he said, leaning into her face and saying softly, "What I want to do…"

"Is against your laws?" she asked.

"And I really don't care," said Solomon, pulling Ariana in for a kiss. They had both been longing for this moment, and once their lips touched, there was no one else in the world but them.

Kiss after kiss showed their feelings for each other.  She parted her lips slightly so their tongues could dance with each other. He brought her to the bed and began to kiss her down her neck. As soon as he laid her down, they gave into their desires for one another.

After they made love, she nuzzled into him, pulling his arm close. He kissed her neck as they began to fall asleep together.

"Sol…" Ariana said softly.

"Mm?"

"I…I love you."

Solomon felt his heart leap at those words. He had not heard those words in almost seven years. He pulled her in closer to him as he could not say them back to her. He nuzzled into her back and happily fell asleep.


	6. Faelina

 

Solomon woke up early the next morning, just before sunrise in Bastok.  He looked at Ariana who was sleeping peacefully beside him and brushed her hair from her face to kiss on the cheek.  He was about to get out of bed when he felt a searing pain shooting throughout his body.  He was completely drained of all strength, both magical and physical.  He flopped over and put his arm around Ariana without meaning to and she curled up into him.  He could not move away from her without pain everywhere, and he didn’t want to move.

He glanced over at the bottle of liquor on the table next to him and knew that it could dull the pain.  He winced as he turned and poured some, quickly drinking it.  As he laid back down, hoping that he wouldn’t have to lift the bottle again, he turned to Ariana who was now awake and looking at him.

“Another drink?” she asked, looking at the empty glass.

“What of it?” Solomon retorted, groaning.  

“You drank an entire bottle of that last night while pouring over those maps and while talking to me.  There are enough liquor and wine bottles in here to line the walls.  Now you’re starting this early?”

Solomon had no response as he could barely move.  He laid there in silence as she got up to get dressed.  He was confused as to what she was talking about since he was not aware that he drank that much.  He tried to get up and figure it out but his body was shaky and as much as he tried, could not get to his feet.  He knew that he needed to be in the shadows today as Ariana was going to be making a substantial money drop to whomever had her daughter and Ariana was afraid that they were going to find out that she was not working alone, but the throbbing pain was too much for him.

He groaned as he forced himself to stand and painstakingly rose to his feet.  Walking to his armor, he collapsed into it, letting out a small cry.  He then sucked in the air sharply and attempted to get back up, but collapsed again.  The immense pain that he was feeling was almost unbearable.  He wondered if what had happened the night before had triggered this in some way.  Opening up to Ariana was not planned, but he didn’t feel alone anymore.  He didn’t feel as lost anymore.  He felt like someone understood him.  Wincing and feeling a small yelp escape his lips, he curled up on the floor, unable to rise.

Ariana heard the noise and rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed.   _ ‘I knew about his drinking but never mentioned it.  How could he be drunk this early in the morning unless he’s just hungover from last night?  He never even acted like the alcohol fazed him.  Seriously Ariana, falling for another drunk…’   _ She shook her head and walked out of the restroom.  She saw Solomon curled up in the fetal position on the ground in a great deal of pain.  She rushed out to him, helping him get back to his feet and to the couch so he could sit up.  

“It hurts…” he groaned.  Ariana sat next to him and put her arm around him.  He put his head on her shoulder while she attempted to get her small frame to be able to hold him and make him feel better.  He breathed in sharply when she touched him anywhere.

“What hurts?”

“E-everything,” he replied, attempting to stand once again and falling back down to the ground.  He thought that maybe he could just be sick, but he knew that he did not have a fever or any symptoms of illness.  He felt his life force draining from him and was unable to control the power that was being expended.  Ariana helped him back to the couch and attempted to hold him once more.

She thought about what she could do for him, and had an idea.  “Hold on just a moment, Sol,” she said, stroking his face before standing up and going to her bag.  She dug through it and found the pain herbs that she kept with her from before she met Solomon, when she was forced to do many unsavory things for the money she needed to keep her daughter alive.  She knew that the herbs were addicting, but they also were able to keep the pain away.

As quickly as the pain came, it went away and Solomon stood up and walked to Ariana who was still searching her bag.  He put his arms around her, “I feel a bit better now.”

Ariana looked back at him with concern and saw his face a bit flushed, but he was standing.  She smiled at him and gave him a hug, “What was that about?”

“I don’t know.  It was a rush of pain, and I felt like all of my Dark Knight powers were being activated all at once and my life was just draining from me.  I can’t really describe it.”

Solomon’s balance wavered but he was able to keep it due to Ariana standing there.  He still wasn’t feeling right, but he attempted to mask the way that he felt by putting his arms around Ariana and pulling her into a hug.  He wanted to be in his armor so that he could protect Ariana, but not have anyone see his face.  He wasn’t too keen on wiping the memories of an entire town because they him.  An adventurer who happened to be a Dark Knight and a hero made sense in Vana’diel’s current history, which was why he chose this point in time.

Solomon thought to himself a moment about it,  _ ‘But, if I’m in my Dark Knight armor, I’ll be highly recognizable.  If I go in plain clothes though, I’ll look like just another citizen of Bastok and no one will question that either.  I don’t want anything to happen to her just because I don’t want my face to be seen.’ _

“I have to go and give them that money,” said Ariana sadly, putting her head on his shoulder. 

Solomon put his forehead on hers and said quietly, “I’ll be there this time.”

She pulled herself from his embrace and looked at him in horror, “No!  You could get hurt or worse!”

“Ari, they can’t hurt me like you’re thinking,” said Solomon, a sly grin appearing on his face.  He summoned his bag and pulled out a small blue crystal, “See this?  This little gem makes me effectively immortal in the realms.  All of us from my realm have them.  You don’t have to worry about me.”

Ariana looked at him with a mix and confusion, worry and irritation, “First, what is that?  Second, you just looked like you were about to die, and now you’re all better?  No, you’re not coming with me.”  Solomon scowled and sat down at the table with his maps.  Ariana prepared the bag of gil, “And stop pouting.”

“Not pouting…” said Solomon trying to look at a map to pass the time.  He was going to go anyway, but he was waiting for her to leave to head out.  He wanted to protect her, but she wasn’t going to let him due to what happened earlier.  He began to think about what had happened to him, the pain and agony that he just experienced.  He scribbled a note to talk to someone in the infirmary when he returned to Ifrit’s Domain.

“You forget that I’ve got a 3 year old daughter, pouting is kind of her thing and you are so pouting,” said Ariana giggling and pulling up the large bag of gil, “I’ll be back soon.”

“Ariana wait!” said Solomon, standing up and rushing to her.  She stopped a moment and looked back, her tail flicking back and forth.  Solomon cupped her face gently and looked into her deep brown eyes.  Then he gently kissed her, “Please be careful.”

She smiled at him and blushed.  As she walked out the door, she had a feeling that he was going to follow her anyway, but she prayed that he wouldn’t.  Whatever had happened to him, she was afraid that it could happen at a moment’s notice and did not want him to get hurt or collapse because of it.  She headed to Port Bastok and behind one of the warehouses where the normal drop off for gil was.  She hoped that they would bring Faelina with them this time and give her back to them.  They had once said that once they got enough money, they would give her back, so she prayed that this was the day.

Solomon followed behind her quietly in civilian clothes.  She turned back to make sure no one was following her multiple times and he hid quickly so that she would not see him.  As she turned and went into Port Bastok, he noticed that three men, a Tarutaru, a Galka and a Hume all followed her into the Port.  Each had a weapon to their side and they looked as though they were prepared for battle.  He silently summoned his Shadow Sword so that he could dispatch them quickly, should they attack her.  The one handed sword felt like paper in his hands after wielding the Chaosbringer, but it would get the job done.

He noticed another Hume join the three of them, this one carrying a small, wriggling sack.  He sucked in his breath, being well aware as to what was in that sack.  He hoped that that was an alive Faelina and that they were planning on giving the girl back to her mother after these months of keeping her, but something told him that that would not be the case.  They followed Ariana behind the warehouses and he knew that he could not follow them there as he could be easily seen that way.  He looked around for a way to hide nearby or possibly a way on top of the warehouse.  Seeing a pole from the top of one of them down to the ground in the alleyway between the warehouses, he grinned.  He’d always wanted to try to climb up a building in this way, but had never been able to do it due to not having the upper body strength.  He was fairly certain that he would be able to do it now due to the training with Cecil as well as wielding the Chaosbringer for nearly 4 years.

Grabbing the pole on the side of the warehouse, he attempted to pull himself up it, but immediately slid down.  He closed his eyes a moment and tried again, this time putting using the pole to help him walk up the wall.  He got up about six feet and then slid back down once more.  He breathed in with frustration and listened carefully as he was hearing bits and pieces of the conversation between Ariana and the thugs.

“I have your money,” said Ariana, putting the bag of gil in front of them.  She had noticed the wriggling bag as well and prayed that Faelina was all right and going to be back with her today.

“Ya was able ta get fiddy tausend gil in a nat?” said the Galka, snickering.

“She be workin’ with summin, I tells ya,” said one of the Humes, producing his weapon.

Solomon felt an adrenaline rush and he tried once again to walk up the wall.  He finally was able to get to the top and rushed to the side of the warehouse where he could see and hear everything that they were saying.  He kept his head low in case they looked up and peeked over the side.

“…no help promise.  I had a very rich customer last night who asked for me for all night is all,” lied Ariana.  She glanced up for a moment to try to think of what to say and saw a flash of red hair on the warehouse.  She blinked a few times in disbelief.   _ ‘Sol, why did you come?!  I told you not to come!’ _

“‘Rich customer’, ma ass.  Yer workin’ wit summin who givin’ ya teh moneh!” yelled the Hume with his weapon produced.

“Who’re you working with, girl?!” demanded the Tarutaru, his voice slightly lilting.

“No one!” Ariana yelled, visibly distressed.  Solomon prepared to jump from the Warehouse to protect her, but did not move from his spot.  He had faith that Ariana could diffuse the situation, but was prepared in any case.

“Ten ware ya get ta moneh?” asked the Galka, unsheathing his weapon and holding it to the bag.

Ariana gulped, “I’m not working with anyone.  I had a rich client last night that you might have heard of.  And I have valuable information on him,” she said, her mind racing.  Solomon clinched his fists as he heard her speak.   _ ‘Ariana…don’t.  Please, don’t betray me.’ _

“Oh?  And who would this be?” the Hume holding the bag said with authority.  When he spoke, he held up a hand and the other three backed down.  “If you tell us, and I like your answer, I’ll let you see your little girl.”

Ariana’s heart leapt.  She glanced up at Solomon’s position and then back down to them, “It was the Dark Knight.”

Solomon’s eyes narrowed and his rage began to build,  **_“She betrayed us!  She betrayed you!”_ ** the Dark Knight voice in his head screamed at him over and over again.  He shook his head and looked down as the thugs were discussing this turn of events together.

“If that is the truth, our employers would be very interested in what you have to say,” said the Hume leading the group.  “What do you know about him?”

“Boss,” the Galka spoke up, “She cain’t be trusted.  Noin seen ‘is face and tey dunno ‘is name neither.“

“The Quadav will pay us handsomely though if she’s telling the truth,” said the Tarutaru.

Solomon breathed in sharply, tempted to cast a spell to stop her from saying anything but stopped himself,  _ ‘The Quadav are their employers.  That mine I saw yesterday on the map then might be where they were holding Faelina and may be where Zeid is.  I’ll be heading there alone this time.  Ariana cannot be trusted.’ _

“I am telling the truth,” she said, the love she had for him evident to him.  He wasn’t sure what information she was going to give them, but he wanted to hear it to know what to do next.  He had turned to leave, but went back to see what she was going to say, “What do you want to know?”

“Wut do ‘e look lak?” asked the Hume with the drawn weapon.

Ariana smiled, “He’s tall, and has a really big nose with a bump on it.”  As soon as she began describing “the Dark Knight”, Solomon instinctively put his hand to his nose,  _ ‘I…I don’t have a big nose do I?’ _  Ariana continued, “He’s really pale and his face is covered in acne.”  He looked at his arms and shook his head,  _ ‘I didn’t think I was that pale, and I haven’t had a breakout since I was 12.  Unless the Dark Knight powers did something bad to my face…’ _

“He has a head of really bushy black hair.  It’s really gross helmet hair and completely unkempt,” she went on.  Solomon bit his lip and smiled, knowing that she was not going to say anything true about him, except that he was tall.  He admitted that he was tall, measuring in at six feet, two inches.  He settled his angry nerves and sat down, his back to the small wall on the side of the warehouse, listening to the ridiculous description she was giving of him.  “As for his body, you’d hardly believe he was a Dark Knight.  It’s lanky and pasty.  Like a mage almost.  He wasn’t very good in bed either, but he paid me well.  You’d think he was a nerdy virgin that had never seen a naked body before.”

Solomon could hardly contain his laughter and slight embarrassment.  He put both hands on his mouth and still a snort came through.  He glanced down and no one was looking in his direction, but the thugs ate up the description, believing every single word.  He did have to admit though that he wasn’t sure if the sexual part was inaccurate, as he was out of practice.

The leader of the thugs then asked, “What information did the Dark Knight give you?”

“He needed a friend.  He was lonely that was all.  He said that he wanted me for all night and he’d pay anything I asked for.  So I asked for 50,000 gil.  We talked more than anything so he told me a lot of information.  What do you want to know?” said Ariana.  Solomon’s eyebrows raised curious how she was going to spin this.  He also knew that he was falling for her more and more, especially now with her keeping so calm in the face of danger.

“His name,” said the leader.

“If I give you his name, will you let me see my daughter?” said Ariana, looking down at the ground sadly.

He opened the wriggling sack and pulled out the small three year old Mithra.  She had long white hair with black streaks in it and a white tail with a black tip.  They unbound her and she ran to her mother, who had tears streaming from her face.  She stroked Faelina’s hair and put her arms around her.  Solomon saw the little girl and felt for Ariana.  Her daughter reminded him of Jethro at that age, and he wanted to do whatever he could to get her back to Ariana.

Ariana then looked at the captors and growled protectively, “His name is Melvin.  Please don’t take my baby girl away again.”

“We haven’t had enough money from you yet, wench,” spat the leader.  “If you can tell us how to beat the Dark Knight and we like your answer, your daughter will stay with you.”

_ ‘That is horribly subjective.  They’re going to take Faelina back with them and devastate Ariana again.  I can’t let them, but I can’t easily stop them right now either.’ _

**_“We could kill them all.”_ **

_ ‘If I did that she could be hurt or worse.  I don’t want to hurt her.’ _

**_“Use the magic.”_ **

_ ‘That would give away my position and possibly kill Ariana.’ _

**_“It would sate our needs.”_ **

_ ‘It would sate your needs, not mine.’ _

**_“Our needs are one in the same.”_ **

_ ‘No, I don’t feel the need for it right now.  I don’t think I will.’ _

**_“How long do you think you can stay here without the Professor coming to check on us?  Do you really think you can keep her?”_ **

_ ‘I know I can’t, but if I can rescue her daughter, I’ll have made a difference in two lives.  One that is meaningful to me.  That’s enough for me.’ _

**_“You felt better with me.  You felt better bathing in the blood of your enemies.  Killing gave your life purpose, or do you disagree that the lives of those beastmen that you took did not make you feel more human.”_ **

Solomon shook his head trying to shut the voice of the Dark Knight out of his mind for now.  He turned his attention back to Ariana, who was in front of Faelina, pleading to be able to keep her.  His heart hurt watching them and he wanted to make things better for her.  The only reason he kept himself on the Warehouse was because he was afraid that she would be killed if he intervened.  Or worse, Faelina might be killed.

“I’m waiting!  How do you defeat the Dark Knight?!” the leader said, ripping Faelina from Ariana.

“Mama!” screamed Faelina.  Ariana had tears running down her face as she reached for Faelina.  She was met by a sword to the throat by a maliciously grinning hume.

“I’ll tell!  He has these little blue gems.  I don’t know how to describe them!” said Ariana, telling the only truth that she had.  Solomon sucked in his breath and pulled out a Mythril shard from his pocket.  While it was true that a Mythril shard would protect him from death and make him more powerful, he had not had to use them while he had been in the Eleventh Realm.  If she wanted to tell them the truth about anything at all, that would be the one thing that she could have said that would throw them off but not endanger their lives.

“What do they do?” asked the Tarutaru.

“They allow him not to be able to die.  They also give him immense power,” said Ariana.  Her eyes begged for them to give her back her daughter, but they pushed the little girl back to the Galka.

“We’ve heard enough.  Magic gems that allow people to not die?  Such a thing does not exist!” said the leader, tying Faelina back up and putting the large bag back over her head.  Another of the thugs, the Galka, picked up Ariana and threw her to the ground.  The tears began to flow from her eyes as she sobbed on the ground.  She had her baby in her grasp and she could do nothing.  She knew Solomon was up at the top of the warehouse, and she didn’t know why he did nothing to save her.   _ ‘He doesn’t really care about me.  He only cares about himself.  Oh baby girl...mama is sorry.’ _

Solomon watched as this happened, a spell readied in his hand.  The moment that the sword went to Ariana’s throat, their fate was sealed, but he could not risk her life or the life of Faelina by throwing spells.  He did not have the confidence needed to get to the ground quickly and then take care of them.  He felt guilty about not being able to do it, as he had the chance to get Ariana’s daughter back for good.

“Wench!  You will bring us one million gil in three days’ time and get your daughter back, or bring us the Dark Knight and we’ll make a trade.  Your choice!” said the leader, taking the bag with the little girl in it and walking away, his thugs in tow.  

When they were a safe distance away, Solomon slid down the pole he had used to get on top of the roof and rushed over the Ariana, who angrily pushed him away.  She looked up at him with hurt in her eyes.  He knelt down to her, and she punched him in the jaw. 

He rubbed his jaw, “Ow!  What the hell was that for?!”

Ariana jumped on him and began to punch his chest while choking out tears, “You were here!  You didn’t listen to me when I said not to come!  And then you could have saved her and you didn’t!”  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before putting his arms around her.  She sobbed in his chest and punched it multiple times, “Why Sol?” she finally choked out.  “I...I protected you…”

“I could have Ari, and that would have gotten you and Fae killed,” said Solomon softly, stroking her hair.  “You know what I’m capable of yes, but I’m not that fast even with a one handed sword.  I would not have been able to save you and your daughter before they killed you both, and I was not going to allow you to die.  We have three days to find Faelina.  If we don’t, hand me over to them.”

“No!  I won’t!  Sol, you know how I feel about you and--”

Solomon kissed her cheek, “You’re the first person I’ve cared about since the Ardent took Amelia and Jethro, and I’m not going to get you killed because I think I’m some kind of…badass.”

Ariana attempted a smile at him, “I’m not going to turn you over to them Solomon.”

“Then I’ll do it myself when the time comes,” he said.  Ariana burst into tears once again, and he put his arms around her.  “Even in my home, I don’t think I have a million gil to my name, so really there is no other way.  Unless we find Faelina and bring her home.”

“I don’t want to lose you Sol,” Ariana said, burying her head in his chest.

Solomon patted her on the back and lifted her chin so that he could look her in the eyes.  He didn’t want to leave her either, but knew that he would soon.  He kissed her and then put his forehead to hers.  He needed to say what was in his heart before he left, “I love you, Ariana.  I don’t want to lose you either.”

“You…do?”

“Yes, I do.  Come on, we need to find Faelina.  We will get your daughter back, I promise.”


	7. All Good Things

 

Following the map, Solomon and Ariana entered into a small mine that was on the map, but was unlabeled.  As they reached it, “Gusgen Mines” was scrawled outside.  Looking inside, there was barely anything there, other than a few harmless monsters.  Solomon pulled out the note and glanced over it once more. _‘“_ _Make your blade shine with even deeper darkness, and go to the lost mines. Once there, drown your blade in the waters that call the horrid beast. Only then shall I give you the power you so thirst for.”  What could he mean by this?  What horrid beast could he be referring to?’_ he thought, looking at the Chaosbringer.   _‘I assumed that by ‘deeper darkness’ he was meaning to kill more creatures, but is there another beast as well?’_

“Sol?  I have an uneasy feeling,” said Ariana, her daggers drawn.

Solomon was lost in thought and grunted in response.  He walked forward down the path and came across an intersection.  Ariana and he sucked in their breath as they heard a large number of Quadav further down the path.  When he felt it was safe, he grabbed Ariana’s hand and headed right from the crossroads.  She clutched his hand tightly, even with a dagger in the hand that he was holding.  She wondered if he knew where he was going, but she did not care at that point.  

Admittedly, Solomon had no idea where he was going.  He was charging through the cave trying to stay one step ahead of an army of Quadav, all of whom wanted his head on a platter.  They came across another intersection and he pulled Ariana to the left, hearing another group of Quadav to the right of them.  He knew that he would not be able to stay ahead of them for too much longer, but he was determined to not give into what the Dark Knight voice in his head wanted him to do.  He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t feel as trusting of that voice as he usually did.

“Solomon, where are we going?” asked Ariana.

“I don’t know,” said Solomon, not turning back to her.  “All I know is the Quadav have Faelina and the Quadav really, REALLY don’t like me.”

“What did you do to them?” she asked, a quiver of fear in her voice.  She did not want to know the answer, but her curiosity was peaked.  

Solomon stopped and hid against a wall, hearing more Quadav just past the next crossroad, “Do you know what it takes to become a true Dark Knight, Ariana?”  She shook her head slowly, “Try having to kill.  A lot, and the majority of the first hundred were Quadav.  At least half of the second hundred as well that I’ve killed.  I’ve lost count of the beasts and beastmen that I’ve killed, but, suffice it to say, I’m likely number one on their most wanted.”

Ariana sighed and stopped Solomon from continuing for a moment, “I don’t care how many of those things you’ve killed.  You’ll always be my sweet Dark Knight.  The man who rescued my daughter and the man I’ve fallen for.”

Solomon blushed under his faceplate.  He shook his head and said, “Ariana, I honestly don’t know what I’ve done to deserve someone like you, but we can’t relish this moment.  Let’s keep going.”

They ran further into the cave and looked both ways at the next fork in the road.  There was a dark tunnel to the right and a clamouring to the left.  They ran into the dark tunnel and a few steps in, stomped into some water.  They continued to the right and saw a dim light as though from a lantern farther down.  There had been no beasts or Quadav anywhere near them through the entire time that they were running, so they did not believe that it was one of them.  They ran toward it and noticed that the cavern that they entered was lit up by a force that was unknown to them.  It looked as though there was light coming in from the outside, but there was no exit to be seen.  

“It’s so pretty!” said Ariana, looking around.  She noticed some cloth that was draped on the walls that was producing this light that they were seeing.  She wandered around the cavern mindlessly, taking note of all of the cloth that was around the area.  She curled her fingers around her daggers as a roar pierced the area.

Solomon looked in front of him and saw a pool of water.  He looked around, suddenly not so trusting of this beautiful cavern.  In the water, he noticed that there was a terrifying creature that was floating at the bottom.  He pushed Ariana away from the pool and thought aloud back to the note that Zeid had given him, “‘Drown your blade into the horrid beast.’”  Solomon shrugged and plunged the Chaosbringer into the lake.  All at once, it was as though all of the blood that had ever coated the sword rushed into the pool and a shriek pierced the grotto as a Banshee came up from the bottom of the lake and roared.  Solomon stood protectively in front of Ariana as the Banshee meandered to them.

“THIS...IS...MY...HOME!” it shrieked at them, swirling around them quickly.

Solomon nodded, “I don’t wish to harm you.  I come looking for Zeid.”

“Zeid?  HA!  Another Dark Knight he told to drown their sword in me whilst I slept,” it sneered.  Solomon looked at it inquisitively as it laughed.  “You are not the first Dark Knight that I’ve met.”  It made a lantern appear and gestured to the bones that were littering the edges of the room.  “Zeid sent you to your death!”

It rushed at Solomon who attempted to stab the angry spirit.  It avoided his blade and began casting a spell from high above them.  Ariana began to dance the Aspir Samba, which would drain the magic from the Banshee.  It began to laugh as it continued to cast as the Samba was ineffective against it.  Ariana hid behind Solomon as he began to cast his own spell against it.  She knew that until the Banshee was on the ground, she would not be able to damage it.  He cast Bio II at the monster which damaged it slightly.

Its laughter was unrelenting as it rained Ice from the ceiling of the cave.  Solomon shielded Ariana and was pierced by jagged ice fragments multiple times.  He breathed in sharply as he pulled an ice shard from his arm that had pierced his armor. He thought for a moment as it readied an attack against him.   He realized that it was a dark type monster, which was why his Bio II did practically nothing against it.  In addition, it was a Banshee, therefore it was an undead monster, thus drain attacks would not work.  Thinking back to the book he had read on some of the known monsters in the realm, he realized exactly what he would need to do.

“I call upon the power of the Lord of Flames, engulf mine enemies with thy fire!  Fira!” chanted Solomon, facing the overconfident Banshee.  An explosion of flames burst from his hand and engulfed the Banshee, causing it to hit the ground.  Ariana began to do a Box Step dance to lower its evasion and the it shrieked once more.  She then did a Divine Waltz to heal both Solomon and herself.

The Banshee cast Drain on Solomon, who looked at the spirit with a dumbfounded yet amused look.  Yes the Drain spell would hit him, but it would do no better than the Bio II that he had cast early on.  He then walked to it and put his hand at the level of its face.

“Boom,” he said nonchalantly as he cast Fira again at point blank range, causing the Banshee to disappear.  He breathed in deeply and turned to Ariana, “Are you okay?”

She nodded at him and lifted his faceplate, revealing his sweat covered face, “I’m fine, but I keep thinking about my baby girl might have been stuck here, being scared by spirits and those Quadav.  I’m sure she’s here, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to find her.”

Solomon stroked her face with his dark plated hand, “We will find her.  I’ll do whatever it takes to make that so.”

“Then what?  You’ve done what you came here for, what now for you?”

“I have finished my task so I’ll be heading back to the Archives.  I have a -- friend -- that I must visit.”

Ariana cocked her head, “A friend?”

“Yeah,” said Solomon letting out a quiet chuckle.  “It’s not what you think.  I meant to see her years ago but I never felt the time was right.  After Amelia died, I couldn’t bring myself to go to her and make sure she was okay.  She got seriously injured a few years back, but I’m sure her mother and the staff at the Royal Archives patched her up.”

“Why didn’t you go back before?”

“Simple, there is a war going on between the Keeper’s Realm and the evil that took my beloved.  It reached Fovoham and the Royal Archives.  I reached an end of a story about a year back, went back home to visit their gravesite and was told by Professor Ifrit that I could not leave Karnak due to the war raging near Corneria.  He had barricaded the Imperial City and was not allowing any travel to or from any of the Archives even with the use of our teleportation spell and you’re doing it to me again…” said Solomon, realizing that he was saying too much once more.

Ariana laughed softly.  She knew that he was not supposed to be talking about it, but they had talked about almost everything since the night before.  She then had a sad thought and her eyes welled with tears, “What are going to do with me when you go back?  Are you going to leave me?”

Solomon sucked in his breath and bit his lip, looking to the ground.  He did not have a soft answer for her.  The answer he had would have broken her heart, since he wouldn’t just leave her, but wipe her memories of him as well.  For him, it was worse than for her, but he had to remember that he saved her life and her daughter’s life.  Even though he was a Dark Knight, he wasn’t completely devoid of emotion.  Ariana had rekindled a light in his heart, and he didn’t want to listen to the voice that told him to kill anymore.  

“I…” he began, as they heard a clanging sound from behind them and someone clapping.  The two turned and saw the large Galka, Zeid, coming toward them.  Ariana hid behind Solomon again as she was not familiar with him.  Before Solomon approached him, he slid his faceplate down.  With Ariana there, he did not want to have wipe Zeid’s memory of him.  He’d rather have her blissfully ignorant of what he would have to do to her.

“Hm, I see that you have become quite skilled with that blade,” said Zeid, taking the Chaosbringer from Solomon.

“Yes sir.  I have learned much through its use,” said Solomon.

“Indeed, but it is no longer worthy of your power,” said Zeid throwing the Chaosbringer away from him and destroying it simply by clinching his fist.  Ariana shuddered behind Solomon.  He put his arm around him and held her close to him to comfort her as Zeid handed him a new sword.  “Take this and unleash its true power.”

“Thank you, I will.”

“Behold!  A Deathbringer, bringer of death.  Grasp now the blade that hears not the cry of justice.  The battle calls upon Death, but it now calls upon you.  The title that this sword bestows...can you withstand its terrible weight?”

Solomon nodded silently as Zeid walked away.  Solomon looked over the sword.  It was jet black with etching at the top of the blade.  It was another Greatsword; however, it felt the weight of his Shadow Sword.  He knew he would be considerably faster with it.  The hilt of the sword had a winged demon with jeweled red eyes at the top of it.  He sheathed the sword and grabbed Ariana’s hand, leading them toward the tunnel they had come from.

“Are you ready to find Faelina?” asked Solomon.  Ariana nodded and looked at the blade he now had.  She loved the man behind the Dark Knight, but she knew that he would not hesitate to kill should anything get in his way.  She was afraid of the sword that he was given and felt something sinister emanating from him, but she shook off the bad feeling and held his hand tighter.

They headed down the tunnel and there was a platoon of nearly fifty Quadav stationed in front of where they had entered.  They would not be able to come back the way that they came.  Solomon shook his head and thought about what he could do without killing all of them, but in his head he heard the Dark Knight’s voice once more, urging him to kill.  He closed his eyes and then looked again.  He believed that he might be able to take out at least half of them with one  Bio II spell aimed at the ground, or he could try to distract them with a large rock that he could throw in front of them, therefore slipping behind them.  Kneeling to grab a decently sized rock from their feet, he threw it as hard as he could to get the noise ahead of them.  

Unfortunately, there were too many Quadav scurrying.  The clamour of the rock fall was lost amongst the rest of the sounds that were heard; however, the rock hit one of the Quadav in the head and there was a brawl that broke out in the middle of the formation.  Solomon shrugged at their luck and the two began to sneak behind them.  Getting around the first squad had been easier than he had thought and they moved onward through another tunnel.  

There was a small patrol that was coming toward them and Solomon knew they couldn’t go behind them without hitting the group there.  His thoughts briefly shifted to a game that his son and he enjoyed playing.   _‘‘Roll Stealth Daddy!’  Well, real life stealth rolling now Jethro,’_ he thought, hiding Ariana behind him and his black armor blending in with the shadows.  The patrol walked by them unknowingly and they continued onward down the tunnel which led into a large open chamber.

In this cavern, there was an immense army of Quadav standing in formation.  Solomon again hid Ariana behind him against a wall, but he heard her voice quietly, “We’re not going to be able to take that many.  What are we going to do?”

“We need to cause a distraction or anything to mask our noise,” whispered Solomon.  “Even I can’t take on that many.”

“How about you take out the 500 on the left, and I’ll take out the 500 on the right?” teased Ariana, putting her arms around Solomon’s waist.

He smiled and had a thought, “Why don’t we split them apart like that and distract them?”

Ariana hugged him tighter out of fear, “I was…”

He turned to her, “I know.  What else do we know is here?”

“Well, there was that ghost like thing from earlier…”

“Exactly.  I can generate enough magical power to at least get a dark spot or two with dark magic up there and then get some ice to rain down.  It will take time since I’m not exactly a Black Mage anymore, but I can still conjure something up,” said Solomon, uneasily.  He was actually not sure if he would be able to get everything conjured up like he wanted to do, however, he had to try.  Ariana looked at him concerned.  Earlier in the day, he was barely able to stand and she was concerned about the amount of magic he was looking to cast.  

He breathed in deeply and attempted to cast a Bio spell, but the spell sputtered out before he could do anything with it.  He wasn’t sure why it had, but it made him more uneasy about his plan.  He attempted it again and conjured a small ball of darkness that would be indistinguishable from a shadow on the wall.  He stopped the spell out of frustration and looked back again to the amount of Quadav that he was seeing in the clearing.

**_“I can help you clear the path, and save the little girl.”_ **

_‘How?’_

**_“I can give you greater control of your magic and you can disintegrate them all.”_ **

_‘That could get Ariana injured and put us in an unwinnable situation.  I won’t do that.’_

**_“She has made you weak!  I can make you strong again.”_ **

_‘All you want is death.  Ariana can give me light and hope so I don’t feel like this anymore.’_

**_“Fine.  Have it your way.  Use Bio II and then put your hand high above the Quadav.  You should be able to use this realm’s Blizzaga at that point to rain ice from the heavens.  Is that what you want?”_ **

_‘Yes, exactly what I want.  Now leave me be for now.  I’ll call upon you when_ **_I_ ** _need you, not the other way around.’_

 **“...as you wish,** **_master_ ** **…”**

The Dark Knight’s voice was much more sinister and angry than Solomon had heard it in a long time.  He was uneasy about it, fearing that it would do something to take him over had it had done in the past while he was learning.  He lifted his faceplate for some air while he began to cast.  Attempting to push all thoughts from his mind, he closed his eyes and concentrated on generating Bio II as a ball of dark energy.  Pushing the ball and making it hover above the Quadav army, he dropped one of this hands and began to attempt to cast another spell without allowing the first to falter.  He felt his face twitching and knew that there was far too much power for him to control, but attempted to do it anyway.

Ariana took note of a Quadav who saw the black ball appear above the heads of the army.  It began to tell another and soon the entire army of bipedal turtles were looking to the ceiling.  Whispers rushed through the army about it being a Banshee.  She smiled knowing that they were distracted.  She turned to Solomon who was visibly straining to control the magic that he was putting out.  A vein appeared on his forehead and a trickle of blood was coming from his nose.  She was afraid he would lose control at anytime.  She walked to him and wiped the blood from his nose then put her hand on his.

As soon as this small action happened, the Blizzard spell which was supposed to have been cast separately, combined with the Bio II, and the spell exploded into an acidic rain that covered the entire cavern.  The shrieks of the Quadav were heard throughout the mines.  Solomon collapsed from exhaustion as he felt as though he could not move and things began to go dark around him.

“No...no no no no no.  Come on Sol,” said Ariana, her adrenaline pumping as she lifted the Dark Knight to his feet.

“I...I sure screwed up this stealth mission huh,” he said, coughing blood onto the ground.  “I can survive, but you need to get up there and find Faelina.  I’ll---”  Solomon slid back down to the ground, unable to sustain his weight.

“Shut it,” said Ariana, digging through her bag.  “You idiot.  I knew you weren’t up to this today after what happened this morning.”

“I’m...fine.  Go!” said Solomon, using as much effort as he could to get her to leave.

“Not without you.  I have some herbs here from my more unsavory dealings.  Take them,” said Ariana, forcing them into his hand.  She was not convinced that Solomon’s little blue crystals were the cure all that he claimed them to be, but she knew the power of her herbs.  She just wanted to have him safe and able to continue with her.

He looked at it and saw that it was a vine from a Malboro and a sprig of Sage.  He knew that they were ingredients in a medicine from his days in the Infirmary, but he had never heard of them being used together like this without the other ingredients.  Ariana shoved some water in his hand and looked at him with concern.

“You need to leave Ariana.  I’ll--” started Solomon.  Ariana shook her head and shoved the raw ingredients into his mouth.  He chewed reluctantly and wanted to spit them out.  She kept her hand on his mouth and then forced the water down his throat.  He pushed her away after everything was down, “Enough.  That was the single worst thing I have ever had, but I think I feel a little better now.”

“It’s the Malboro vine.  Some of the back alleys sell it as a narcotic.  Just watch out if you have to use it again.  It can be addicting.  Now, let’s go,” said Ariana, helping him back to his feet.

“Ariana, go on ahead.  Faelina should be close,” said Solomon, looking over the carnage that he had wrought in the room.  There were many Quadav that had melted into the floor.  There were torsos separated from their legs.  It was not what he had intended at all.  The Quadav in this cavern had all but vanished as soon as the “Banshee” attacked.  He knew it was only a matter of time before they reappeared.

“I already told you--” she began.

“Please, listen to me.  She should be up there.  If I lose control of a spell again, I could hurt you or her, and I don’t want that.  I should have left this realm weeks ago, but I fell in love with you.  I can’t have a life with you.  You have to continue your life with Faelina and forget about me,” pleaded Solomon.

Ariana slapped Solomon angrily, “You are coming with me and that is final.  How dare you come into my life, make me fall in love with you and then expect to be able to leave just like that?  Is that what you do where you’re from?  How many women have you done this to?  No, I don’t want to know, but you will help me rescue my daughter, then you can go and screw the next willing woman whom you trick.”

Solomon rubbed his cheek.  He nodded sheepishly at Ariana as they walked to the next level.  He didn’t want to upset her like he did.  He genuinely loved her and it hurt to hear her say what she did.  Before they reached the top, he pulled Ariana behind him.  There were no Quadav that they could see or hear.  He turned to her and pulled her into a hug, knowing that this was likely the most dangerous thing that he had done all day.

“Ariana, I do love you.  I haven’t loved anyone since the Ardent took my wife from me.  I honestly have no idea what I’m doing with you here,” said Solomon, holding her tightly.  He knew that in this cavern, there was no time to dawdle, but he thought that she should know.

“You’re an idiot,” she said, not returning the hug.  “We don’t have time for this right now.  My daughter needs us now more than ever.”

They looked at the top of the passage and saw a small cage with the little girl inside of it.  There were no Quadav or even monsters protecting it.  Solomon knew that this had to be a trap as they would not just leave their prize alone.  The Quadav had to have known about Ariana and Solomon coming after their henchmen said to give them a million gil, so where were they?

Solomon motioned to Ariana to stay where she was as he approached Faelina.  The little girl looked at him with terror in her eyes.  She scooted back to the back of her cage and hid her face in her knees.  He put his finger to his lips to quiet her.  The cage was locked, and there was no key that was readily seen.  He scowled under his breath, knowing that he would have to break the lock.

“Well well well, if it isn’t the Dark Knight himself coming to rescue the little brat,” said a male voice from behind him.  He recognized it as the leader of the henchmen who threatened Ariana daily.  

“You was right boss,” said another voice, this time of the Galka.

“Ken we kill ‘em?” asked a third, the idiot Hume that was with them.

Solomon turned and looked at them.  He shook his head, “You think that you can take me on?  You must be crazy.  Just let me take the girl and no one else has to get hurt.”

The Hume laughed, “You are outnumbered three to one and you think that you have the authority to make demands?”

“I just killed legion of Quadav with a single spell.  You really want to test your theory?” snorted Solomon.

The Hume put his hands in the air with a sly grin on his face, “Uh oh boys, looks like we got ourselves a BADASS over here!”  He whipped out his gun, and shot Solomon in the chest before he could do anything to retaliate.  Although it did not pierce the armor, he felt his body becoming paralyzed.  He dropped his sword involuntarily, then fell to his knees.  “You ain’t so tough when you can’t move huh punk!”

The leader called over his lackeys and ordered them to remove Solomon’s helmet.  Then, the three of them began to beat him severely.  He looked for Ariana, but she was nowhere to be seen.  It was exactly what he wanted to see.  It meant that she listened to him.  He knew that he would not be able to handle much more of this before he blacked out.  

He coughed blood onto the floor before the leader grabbed his hair and pulled his head back, “I think that he’s almost had enough.  What do you think boys?” The Galka cracked his knuckles while the other Hume was cackling maniacally.  That one drew his sword and put it up to Solomon’s throat.

“Cannae kill ‘em?!” he asked, his sword breaking the skin at his neck.  The blood began to pool at the tip of the blade.  The leader pushed the sword away and smashed Solomon’s head into the ground.  Solomon felt his nose crack as felt all of the pain rushing to him as his body was regaining feeling.  He acted as though he was still paralyzed so that he could gain an upper hand.

“He’s all yours, Po.  Clean up after you’re through.  We’ll get more money this way then from that cheap whore,” said the leader to the other Hume.

Po began to cackle once more, “I gunna hafun witchu!  Genku, watch ‘ow is dun.”  He raised his sword high into the air.  Solomon assumed that this idiotic maniac was going to attempt to behead him.  He then felt something cool brush against his skin.  His wounds began to feel better.  He jumped to his feet, his sword at the ready and ran Po through with it.  Then he turned to Genku, the Galka, who didn’t know what had happened.  He dipped his sword in the blood of Po, and stared at him.

“I use the life force of your friend to end yours and strengthen me!  Blood Weapon!” said Solomon.  The blood coated the Deathbringer as it glowed red as Solomon pointed it at the man.  It had terrified Genku to the point that he could not move.

“P-please sir!  I do whuteva you want.  Please.  Dun kill me!” pleaded the Galka.

Solomon glared at him.  He then grabbed behind him and flipped the leader over his head, slamming him into the ground.  He punched the man in the face and said, “I think you’ve had almost enough.”  Without waiting for a response, he snapped the neck of the leader.  He pointed his sword at Genku once more, “Where is the key for that little girl’s cage?”  He pointed to the leader.  Solomon dug through his pockets and found a small key, “Thank you.  Now, you and the Tarutaru who is around here somewhere will leave me, my girlfriend and her daughter alone.  Do you understand?”

Genku ran away without a second thought.  Solomon unlocked the cage where Faelina had been hiding her face in her knees since she first laid eyes on him.  The little girl looked up and hid once more.  He climbed into the cage and picked her up, shushing her gently, “I’ve got you, Fae.  Everything will be okay.”

Ariana rushed from the shadows where she had been hiding and grabbed her daughter as soon as Solomon pulled her from the cage, “Fae!  Oh my sweet baby girl.  Mama missed you so much!”

“Mommy!” exclaimed Faelina, putting her arms around Ariana.  She pointed to Solomon, “Good guy?”

Ariana laughed and nodded, “Yes angel.  He is a good guy.  He helped save you from the turtle people.”  Solomon couldn’t help but smile at her.  He knew that they were not out of the woods just yet, but he was not going to force them to leave without allowing them to have this moment.  Fae wriggled from her mother’s tight embrace and ran to Solomon, putting her hands up in the air, wanting to be picked up.  He obliged the little girl, holding her close to him.  

She kissed him on the cheek and whispered, “Thank you.”

Ariana smiled at the sight.  She walked behind them toward the passage to the lower quarters, “We’d better--” Solomon turned swiftly to Ariana who had stopped mid sentence.  A spear was protruding from her chest.  He cried out for her as she collapsed to the ground.  Behind her was a Quadav that was glowing black as though Ardent possessed.

 **“You are mine, Archivist.  Do not forget that,”** it said, the Ardent’s voice coming from it.  Solomon rushed to the Quadav and ran it through.  He then kicked the body down the stairs after beheading the creature.  

He cradled the dying Ariana in his arms.  Faelina too was next to him and grabbed her mother’s hand as she choked on her own blood.  She touched Solomon’s face and stroked it, attempting to speak but was unable to do so.  He knew that he could not heal her.  He could do nothing in this state, but if he could get her home...

“No...NO!  COSMOS!  I BEG OF THEE!  RETURN ME TO THE ANCIENT ARCHIVES!” he shouted with tears rolling down his face.  He held a Mythril Shard in the air as he chanted the spell.  It burst into pieces and they were returned to the Library of the Eleventh Realm.  He rushed Ariana to the Infirmary as quickly as he could with her daughter in tow.  He didn’t care if he had broken the one rule that Ifrit had given him.  Ariana deserved to live out her days with her daughter, not have her life cut short like this.  He would not have another person he loved taken from him by the Ardent.   _‘Please Ariana, pull through this.  Your daughter needs you.  I need you.  Please…’_


	8. Must Come to an End

“Why does it have to be so hot, Mike?” complained a green-haired, dark-skinned medic in the Infirmary.

“Because, Ike, we live in Karnak, in the middle of a desert,” said Mike, a redheaded medic, his feet resting on a desk.

“I’m glad the war is over.  I don’t think I could handle another parent losing their kid like that,” Ike said, shaking his head.

“We were hurting after Sol left us to ‘go find himself’ because his wife and kid died.  I think we managed okay,” sighed Mike.

“Go find another lady to screw maybe,” scoffed Ike.

Mike stood from his chair, walking to Ike then smacking him on the back of the head.  “Man, don’t go disrespecting him.  He was as loyal as a pup to Amelia.  They did some awesome duets in the bar too.  I miss them both."

Ike rubbed his head, “Ow!  Come on, she was a fine woman and he, well, we know what he looked like.”

“It’s not always about looks, you moron!” Mike said as he caught a glimpse of red hair rush by him.  “Speak of the devil!  It’s Sol!”

Solomon cradled Ariana’s body as he flew past the two medics to a room.  They followed him, nearly stepping on Faelina who followed closely behind Solomon.  He swiftly turned to them and said, “Help me help her.  She deserves a life with her daughter, not this.”

“What the hell happened to you man?!” asked Ike.  “And who is this?”

“Ike, there’s no time to explain.  Help me,” growled Solomon, his hand glowing as he chanted Curaja.  The spell flickered out on his fingertips as he attempted to cast.  Sure that his injuries hindered him, he tried again.  Again, nothing happened.  He excused himself for a moment to shed his Dark Knight armor, believing the weight of what the armor meant could be hindering him.

His body ached as he returned, dressed in the standard garb of a citizen of Bastok.  He summoned his staff to help channel his magic.  A rush of energy flowed through him as he cast the advanced healing art on Ariana, but the moment the magic sealed the spear wound, it opened once more.  He continued to cast spell after spell on her, trying to save her; however, he only bought her a precious few seconds before she succumbed to her wounds.  Ike shook his head as he walked away, clearly defeated, and followed closely by Mike who shut the door behind him.

Solomon heard Faelina’s voice chanting next to him and a cure spell burst from her young hands.  Ariana gasped for air as she grabbed Faelina’s hand firmly and placed it on Solomon’s.  The little girl looked up at him with a mix of fear and wonder as her mother spoke through coughs, “Fae, baby, you be good for your Papa okay?”

“Papa?” asked Faelina, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Be strong baby.  Know that mommy loves you and will always be with you,” coughed Ariana.

“Ari, don’t speak.  I can get someone from the Royal Archives, we can--” Solomon began, choking back his own tears.  

“Sol, you take care of my baby girl.  I’m nobody, but she can,” interrupted Ariana, coughing violently, “She can be something.  Solomon, take care of her.”

“Mama?” Faelina said, water flowing from her eyes, “Where you going?”

“Take her,” pleaded Ariana.  “I don’t want her to see…”

Solomon shook his head and sat next to her on the hospital bed, holding her close to him.  Though her blood stained his tunic, he cradled her as she gasped for air, “Ariana, I love you.  Please, hold on a little longer.  She needs you.  I need you.”

“It’s too late, Sol.  Three weeks felt like a lifetime with you and me.  I…” Ariana said, blinking slowly, her words slowing until life faded from her eyes.  

He pulled her lifeless body close to him and whispered, “Goodbye.”  Solomon laid her down on the hospital bed and knelt to Faelina, pulling her into a hug.

“Mama?” Faelina asked, reaching for Ariana’s hand.

“Mama needs to sleep,” Solomon said softly, lifting her off the ground.

Faelina, as Solomon began to walk away from Ariana, shrieked loudly, “MAMA!  MAMA!”

Tears pooled in Solomon’s eyes before streaming down his face as he held the squirming Faelina who pulled against him harder than any monster he had ever faced.  She reminded him of his Jethro, which made him hold her closer still.  He looked at the twin medics who spoke quietly amongst themselves.

“I’m taking this little girl to her new home,” Solomon choked out, holding back tears.

“Sol, who was that woman?” asked Mike, putting his hand on Solomon’s shoulder.

“Someone who taught me more in three weeks than I learned in the last seven years,” Solomon said, attempting to wrangle the sobbing three-year-old.  He remembered what he would do when Jethro would do the same and began to hum a song that Amelia sang to their son, calming Faelina as much as he could before continuing out of the Infirmary.

“Oh so that’s not your--” Ike began before feeling a sharp slap on the back of his head.  Solomon ignored them as he walked to the Archivist Hall with a sniffling Faelina.  

The sand of the nearby dunes blew on the wind, biting Solomon’s face as he walked on the outdoor path from the Medical Wing.  Quickly brushing the grit from the little girl’s back once they reached their destination, he realized that she cried herself to sleep.  He felt his emotions well up within him but kept them inside for Faelina’s sake.  

He opened the door to his dusty office, shaking his head as he saw a small mound of paperwork accumulating cobwebs on his desk.  He walked to a red closet sized door, chanting a quick spell to unlock it.  As it opened, a set of gold-trimmed black stairs appeared and he carried the sleeping Faelina with him to his home.

Kneeling to put the little girl on the couch (and wondering how he was going to take care of a three-year-old by himself), he felt her grip her hands around his neck.  He gently removed her fingers and placed a small afghan over her.  A smile crept across his face as tears finally fell for Ariana.   _‘Ifrit, you told me to find something to hang onto.  Here she is,’_ he thought, wiping a tear from Faelina’s face along with a thumb full of dirt.

“You need a bath,” said Solomon, chuckling quietly to himself.

A knocking on the door startled Faelina and caused her to jump into Solomon’s arms, crying softly.  He shushed her gently, carrying her to the door with him.  There stood Ifrit, a look of concern on his face.  Upon seeing Faelina, a smug grin appeared and he said, “Well, Solomon, you sly dog.  I had wondered why you were in the Eleventh Realm so long.”

Realizing Ifrit’s belief that Faelina was his daughter, Solomon shook his head, “You’ve got me wrong, Professor.  I just--”

“Papa?” Faelina said, undermining Solomon’s attempt to convince Ifrit of her paternity.

Ifrit smiled at the little girl and turned back to Solomon, “I heard about what happened in the Infirmary.  I told you to leave any romance in the Realm.”

“This is not the time, Ifrit.  I wanted to save her so that she could spend her life with her daughter, not die at the hands of the damned Ardent!” Solomon’s voice raised as he continued talking, nearly yelling.  Faelina began to cry on his chest from the sheer volume.  Solomon bounced her gently to calm her while attempting to steady his emotions as well.

“Archivist, calm down!  Your motivations were not to disobey me but to save her life.  I was also told that you attempted to save her, using white magic even through the darkness in your heart.”

“Yes Professor, I did everything I could to save her.  I know that the soul of a hero returns back to their realm if they die here.  Would it be the same for Ariana?” said Solomon, his voice pleading.

“No.  She was unimportant to the timeline.  She is nobody when it comes to the Eleventh Realm.  She cannot be revived,” Ifrit said matter-of-factly.

“She was more of a hero than a hundred of those so-called adventurers and heroes in that realm!  She risked everything for her daughter and lost everything.  She should be allowed to live!” Solomon said, his composure breaking and tears flowing from his eyes.

“Mama?” sobbed Faelina.

Ifrit turned from the two of them and said, “I said that she could not be revived by sending her soul back to the Eleventh Realm.  In addition, we’ve tried to revive her and her spirit has left her.  Her heroism will not go unnoticed.”

“Sir?”

“Reserved for those of great heroism, Ariana will be buried at the Fovoham Memorial Grounds.  She will be buried in two days’ time.  I have arranged a plot near Amelia and Jethro.  Now, tell me about her.”

Solomon sat on his couch speaking with Ifrit for some time about Ariana.  Faelina chimed in from time to time about her before she fell asleep in Solomon’s arms.  Ifrit gently stroked the little girl’s hair with a smile on his face.  As harsh as he seemed to most, children calmed his heart.

“Solomon, are you going to keep her?  You can put her back in the Eleventh Realm.  You’re not obligated to take care of her.”

“I promised Ariana I would.  Also, you didn’t see what I did in the Infirmary.  As good as I was with White Magic, she may be better.  She knows ‘Cure’ and she’s only three years old Ifrit.”

“I’m glad to have a promising Keeper-in-Training.  She’ll be eight before you know it and in those classes.  For now, rest.  You’ll have a long road ahead of you and you may wish to stay with Linnaeus in the Royal Archives tomorrow.”

“Oh, that reminds me.  How is Katerra doing?  I meant to see her when I had a chance but so much has happened.  I know that she was injured…”

Ifrit breathed out with a tinge of frustration at the mention of Katerra’s name, then said, “I hate to add insult to injury, but she succumbed to her injuries.  A friend of hers became possessed by the Ardent and convinced her to give up on life, effectively killing her.  We’re still looking for this ‘friend’ of hers to bring her to justice.”

Closing his eyes for a moment, Solomon shook his head, “I lost track of the time.  I wish I had gone to see her when I had the chance.  Good night, Professor…”

Ifrit left Solomon with the sleeping child in his arms.  He knew not how he would ensure Faelina would have a peaceful childhood full of joy, but he promised Ariana he would take care of her.  He was her father now and loved her as his own.  She reminded him of his Jethro.  Lost in thought, he fell asleep on his couch, Faelina asleep on him.

 

Two uneventful days passed.  Solomon took Ifrit’s advice and stayed a night in Cornelia with Doctor Linnaeus, a man who also lost his wife and daughter in the war with the Ardent.  The kindly man opened his home to the Archivist, and his new daughter, without question, requesting to be allowed to pay his respects to the woman of the Eleventh Realm being buried in Fovoham.  Solomon questioned how Linnaeus knew anything about Ariana, to which Linnaeus replied, “Word travels quickly here.  The special case of Ariana is one that many are curious about.”

On the Chocobo ride to Fovoham, Solomon received word that Doctor Clarisse departed for Fovoham as well to pay her respects to the dead via Linkshell.  He remembered her from various Archivist Exams where the two of them proctored, and as someone else who tested before the age of eighteen to become an Archivist.  She lost her lover and student in the war, so she too knew the pain he experienced.

As he rode into the sacred burial grounds with Faelina seated in front of him, he noticed hundreds of people from all different walks of life joined him.  They wanted to know who this woman of the realms was, and he wanted to know how an event from the southernmost town in the Keepers’ Realm traveled to the northernmost within two days.  Garbed in his Archivist Robes, black with a large red sun emblazoned on the back and a fire charm hanging from his wrist, he jumped from the Chocobo, holding Faelina’s hand, who appeared uncomfortable in her new black robes.  He looked around and saw the emblem of the Ancient Archives, a fiery red sun on a black background, posted around a coffin resting in the center of the gathering.

Ifrit stood in front of those gathered and said, “We are gathered here today to celebrate the fire in the heart of a woman, whose only goal was to protect her child.  In this special memorial service for a denizen of a realm who died here, we want to honor the flames of her soul.  I would like for Archivist Solomon, the only one who truly knew her, to say a few words.”

Solomon slowly walked before the gathering, clutching Faelina’s hand tightly.  His nerves nearly caused him to vomit and run, but he stood his ground, cleared his throat, and began to speak, “Who is Ariana?  The easy answer is that she was a prostitute.”  He heard some gasps throughout those present as he continued, “Another easy answer is that she was a dedicated mom, but, who was she really?  She prostituted herself, subjecting herself to immeasurable danger, to get enough money to pay a ransom for her little girl.  She danced all day and all night, unable to catch a moment’s peace, because every time that she was able to get the money they demanded, they asked for more.”

Solomon sighed, closing his eyes for a moment to keep what little composure he could muster, “One day, she met me.  This was three weeks ago.  She propositioned me, this is true.  I brought her back with me, but never asked her to do anything more than rest, paying the daily ransom to keep Fae alive.”  Upon hearing her name, Faelina looked up at Solomon, poked at him then began trying to pull away from him.  He knelt to her eye level, hushed her gently, and placed his finger to his lips before continuing, “Sorry about that.  Ariana told me what happened, about a gift that made her little girl a target.  She said that this girl could see into a person’s mind and speak languages unknown to her.  She was determined to find Faelina, and needed help.”

Unable to break from Solomon’s grip, Faelina held her arms up for him to hold her, “Up, papa?”  A chorus of aws rang out across the grounds as Solomon picked her up and bounced her gently to calm her.  She wrapped her arms around his neck as he continued.

“Every single day from the day that Ariana met me, we searched through caves, plains, towns...everywhere,” Solomon’s voice began to break as he spoke, “Two days ago, I...I woke up beside her.  Two days ago, I believed that we would find her daughter, and I would leave, but--” Solomon stopped, clearing his throat and temporarily regaining his composure, “My heart broke thinking about leaving her behind.  In three weeks’ time, she made me fall in love with her, because of her undying devotion and love she held for Faelina.  Two days ago, she stood toe to toe with her daughter’s captors and was threatened with her little girl’s death unless she gave them one million gil, simply because she was not going through hell getting the money they wanted.  She told them that she knew an adventurer that their employers would be interested in...me.  Learning this, they said that she could trade me for her little girl because their Beastmen employers wanted my head on a platter and would pay handsomely for me.  I told her that I would take that chance.  She said no.”

The tears welling in Solomon’s eyes began to fall.  Faelina felt him sucking in air rapidly, trying to calm himself and wiped a tear from his eye as he continued, “Ariana was impaled on a spear of a Quadav not five minutes after she rescued her daughter.  Faelina watched as her mother was murdered.  She watched as the woman who gave everything for her collapsed with a bloody spear through her chest.”  

Hearing the words Solomon spoke, Faelina began to sob in Solomon’s chest, whispering, “Mama…” over and over.

Solomon gently bobbed with the crying Faelina, unable to contain his own emotions.  He choked out, “Who is Ariana?  A mother who risked and lost her life to save her daughter.  A woman who softened my heart and showed me what love was again and that I was worthy of love.  Ariana is a hero, worthy of her name being written in the annals of history.  I’ve been told she’s unimportant.  That she’s a nobody.  This could not be further from the truth.  Ariana is a somebody.  She’s a mother, she’s a lover, she’s a friend.  Ariana is a hero.”


End file.
